#I did it once with a friend and I've played several matches with them after

[thingsmysplattershotjrtoldme]

So I was partying in the lobby with someone who tried to party in a match and i...kinda splatted them before I realized what they were doing. They didn't join the match after and I'm wondering if I was an ass...

[onyourowndaisymae]

obey me dateables (+ luke) presenting you with a friendship bracelet in return

lol sorry i've been a bit mia recently... i finish undergrad in a few days and have been a little swamped! + i have a mystery health condition i'm still trying to get under control that flares up with stress, so... clearly it's been a bit busy for me. i thought finally reversing my friendship bracelet prompt would be a wonderful way to get back in touch with all my blorbos. so! without any further ado, enjoy!

[presenting the demon brothers with a friendship bracelet]

[presenting the dateables (+ luke) with a friendship bracelet]

content warnings: none

prompt: you took the first step in commemorating your friendship by presenting him with a friendship bracelet. but it would be rude not to return the gesture, right? that's what he thinks. maybe that's why he's slaving away over these thin strings, all to see that smile on your face...

Diavolo

oh, what was that? yeah, he’s listening. lucifer, it’s fine, just let him–

diavolo had been ignoring the strange looks from several of his advisors all week as he took the craft in and out of meetings. usually, he'd just fidget with a pen as ancient demons droned on about witch pact laws and realm relations for the nth time this month. but now that he's on a quest to make you a cute friendship bracelet to match his own, he's got something to keep his hand busy-- and to keep him from getting a stern look from lucifer for clicking said pen under the desk over and over.

unfortunately, making the bracelet made him a much worse listener. it's not even that he's distracted by keeping the pattern going! but once he starts knotting the strings together, he starts thinking about you. would you like this gift, or should he get you something nicer? how long did it take you to make his bracelet? would you wear this bracelet? because if so, you should definitely let him know, because he can wear his and you two will match--

lord diavolo.

he looks up to find barbatos giving him a stern look. uh-oh. that means he's been lost in thought long enough for someone to notice.

he can't help it. not really. he's just never had a human friend like you before! you're just so fascinating. all your little childhood stories and human traditions send his mind racing a mile a minute. children in the devildom are often much rougher with each other. they're trying to get a grasp on their demonic instincts, and often their play turns to fighting in a matter of moments. diavolo loves the idea of childhood friendships-- something he never got and cannot make up now-- and little tokens of affection to commemorate them.

he might not be a child anymore, but something about your silly human traditions make him feel young and rambunctious again. last week, you told him you wanted to take him to a human world zoo to pet the sharks. petting animals! at the zoo! in the devildom, touching any of the zoo's creatures is practically a death sentence. yet humans could get up close and person with theirs and walk away unscathed. incredible! the more he hears about human culture, the more he wants to know everything.

when the meeting is over (and after a brief-- and well deserved-- scolding from both barbatos and lucifer), diavolo retreats to his office to finish the bracelet for you. his big hands and thick fingers struggle to find purchase on the tiny strings, but when they do, he ties each knot with the utmost care. this is for you, after all.

diavolo find you at RAD the next morning and presents you with his gift then. he craves your approval more than he'd ever let on-- with that expectant grin and pleading eyes, though, you're not exactly surprised.

he's overjoyed when you accept his gift and even more so when you ask for help putting it on immediately. that stupid, eager grin won't leave no matter how serious he tries to look. diavolo's just so glad that you think of him-- and now, when he looks down at his bracelet and remembers this exchange, he'll think of you, too.

Barbatos

weeks had gone by since you gave barbatos that friendship bracelet. it remains pinned against the inside of his uniform day in and day out for safekeeping-- and as a little reminder of your affection for him. it's nice that someone as wonderous as you has taken such an interest in a demon like him.

however, not once does making you a bracelet in return cross his mind, despite lord diavolo's not-so-subtle hints. he prefers to return your affections in other ways-- "accidentally" buying too much of a fruit you like at the market that morning, inviting you over to sample new varieties of tea he's preparing for lord diavolo, soft smiles and lingering eyes when your back is turned.

one morning, he's surprised by an urgent call from the demon prince's office.

barbatos makes his way to the young master's office right away, only to come across a surprising scene: the stacks of papers usually populating the desk are now tucked away on nearby shelves, replaced by a near-obscene amount of embroidery floss in every color of the rainbow. lord diavolo's face was twisted into a grin-- it was not often he was able to pull a fast one like this on the butler, but when he did, he was always very smug about it for the next few days.

"ahh, barbatos, it's good to have you here. please, sit."

the two of them danced around pleasantries for a few moments before barbatos quirked a brow-- that micro-expression asked everything he had on his mind.

"i've decided that we need to make those human friendship bracelets today. it's important that we foster bonds in our community, and exchanging traditions like this are a fantastic way to do so." the prince made this announcement with a very serious, earnest expression.

the two men stare at each other in silence for a few moments. finally, lord diavolo cracks a smile.

"do you think lucifer would wear a friendship bracelet if i made him one?"

"young master, i think he'll do anything you ask of him."

the rest of the afternoon is spent per the lord's whims, holed up in that office wasting the day with silly human world crafts. diavolo makes some excuses about "cultural exchange", but he's not fooling anyone. barbatos only allows this to happen because the young master has been on top of his paperwork all week. the castle has felt quite cold and suffocating lately-- it's nice to bring warm laughter and sunny smiles back between the gilded walls once again, even if just for a few hours.

barbatos is good at everything. in this case, he's able to simply look at the bracelet you gave him and recreate the pattern near-perfect on his first try. his nimble fingers create delicate knots with ease, leaving the future demon king in his dust (metaphorically, of course-- he has to help diavolo several times throughout the afternoon).

he presents the bracelet to you one day over afternoon tea. a thin, decorative box wrapped in golden ribbon appears by your side. inside is a friendship bracelet made in your favorite colors. he's very aloof as you ask questions about it, but he indulges you with the answers and accompanying stories of his little craft session with the young master.

his gloved fingers carefully secure the bracelet around your wrist. you don't neglect to notice the ghost of a smile on his lips-- a quiet moment of pride, of adoration-- after he moves on to finish serving tea.

Simeon

simeon had the perfect excuse to crave time out of his busy schedule to make you a friendship bracelet. hey luke? do you want to try this craft too?

he'd been waiting for a free afternoon where he could finally make you a friendship bracelet in return. you said it was a human tradition, right? well, it would certainly be rude to not reciprocate. and since it was a common tradition amongst kids, simeon figures he can rope luke into joining him while he's on babysitting duty.

he did what he always does when he wants to figure something out-- he sought out a book from the RAD library to teach him. satan guided him to the section on human culture and traditions. from there, he scoured the shelves until he found one with adequate instructions. that was the book he currently had sprawled out in front of him, propped open with a candle as his fingers were tangled in embroidery floss.

(satan did try to convince him to use a video instead. deviltube has many useful tutorials, y'know? learning from a book is much harder. yet peepaw simeon didn't trust himself to find a video, nor keep it up on his D.D.D. after satan leaves. which is... valid.)

the problem with following pictures is that they can only tell you so much. and the written instructions made enough sense to be passable, but to actually guide a beginner in the art of friendship bracelet creation? dubious. that was simeon's current predicament. he was supposed to be guiding the blonde cherub across from in on how to make his own bracelet, but... why was this so confusing?

at some point, solomon emerged from his lair room and found himself leaning over the grown angel's shoulder. even the sorcerer, who learned most everything from books, didn't quite get what the book meant. is that string supposed to go under...? maybe around...? these pictures are grainy as hell, too, so it's not like they're much help.

by the grace of god and many hours of trial and error, simeon managed to figure the pattern out. him and luke both finished the night with a few bracelets each. luke made one for simeon, one for solomon, and two for barbatos. simeon had several failed attempts of the bracelet he tried to make you, with one successful attempt to give to you the next time he saw you. solomon ducked in and out of the angels' crafting session and came away with one very ugly little bracelet-- he didn't mind, because apparently he'd been needing a new bookmark anyways.

simeon's a little sheepish the next time you come over to purgatory hall. it's not that he's ashamed to give you a gift in public, per se-- it's more that the whole thing feels strangely personal. he put a lot of effort into making that bracelet for you! now that he knows how much time you devoted to making him such a gift (he doesn't quite realize you didn't have to learn from scratch, so it took way less time for you), he really treasures the intimacy of homemade gifts.

still, despite his initial hesitation, he gives you the gift with a smile. he wanted to return the favor, you see, since he likes your gift so much. do you like it? please say you like it, his fingers are still sore

simeon will secure the bracelet to your wrist with a smile-- a bit clumsy, as the tie mechanism confused him as he was making the bracelet-- but he eventually gets the hang of it. the rest of the evening, he'll sneak little glances at your wrist, a proud little smile on his lips. he really likes seeing you-- what's that, luke? why is he smiling at mc like that? don't worry about it. you'll understand when your older.

Solomon

solomon had a not-so-healthy habit of staying up entirely too late, nose deep in experiments and new spells, that he often lost track of time and place. at times, the sleep deprivation made him careless. the night would usually end when he grows too frustrated with his groggy movements to go on.

tonight's experimenting ended in a flurry of hushed swears as the contents of this new potion spilled on him and across his chest. it's his fault-- he's the one who knocked the flask over-- yet he's cursing some abstract villain out to get him tonight.

in all the chaos, his bracelet is drenched in a viscous ooze, which quickly sunk right into the strings and refused to budge. great. what was that, his third ruined bracelet this month? if he didn't know any better, he'd think he was hexed to suffer a string of minor-yet-infuriating inconveniences every day.

he took the knife on his workbench and cut the ruined bracelet off. it hit the wood with a slop, strings fraying already from the new sever between strings. what was that, his third destroyed bracelet this month? he should really be more careful with these things.

still, though, part of him liked how you'd always make him a new one. ruining these bracelets gave him a reason to see you on a semi-regular basis.

strings uncoiled from each other, now freed from the confines of the knots that once held them together. solomon watched with tired fascination as it unraveled in slow motion.

was that all? just a couple of knots? he could do that.

his experiment now laid half-finished on his workbench, abandoned in favor of the new challenge laid out before him. a knotted pile of embroidery floss covered spellbooks and containers of potion ingredients. his hands shook from exhaustion-- at this point, he was so used to his shitty sleep schedule that he stopped noticing. his body may be tired, but his brain was hyperfocused on this task. he wasn't going to stop until he reverse engineered this friendship bracelet for you.

simeon found him slumped back in his chair the next morning, fast asleep with his neck quirked at an odd angle. he very carefully woke the sorcerer up with a hand on the shoulder and a few quiet words. before he did, though, he brought luke in to get a look. what? it's not often solomon let himself be caught slacking like this. if he didn't want two angels whispering and giggling over the way he slept with his arms crossed and head back (like an old man passed out in front of the TV), maybe he should learn to get in bed first.

after a rough morning dragging his sore body around purgatory hall (hmm, i wonder why?), solomon found you in the halls at RAD between classes. his tired expression melted into a smug grin as he found his way to your side.

ah-hem. behold, mc. a friendship bracelet. what's that? it's wonderful? of course it is. solomon is good at everything, after all. (this quite nearly erupts into chaos as mammon very loudly reminds him that even beel can't stand his cooking).

he's delighted by that surprised look on your face. that made the lack of sleep all worth it. you go to reach for the gift when he holds it out of your reach. nuh-uh, mc. see this bare wrist? yeah. it's that time of the month. he needs a new bracelet. solomon laughs off your exasperated sigh and gently takes your wrist in his cold hands. slender fingers ghost across your pulse points with care as he secures his creation to your wrist. a small, genuine smile pulls at his lips.

... he does still need a new bracelet, though. so, y'know... let him know when you finish. jackass

Luke

luke is immediately gung-ho about making you a friendship bracelet. he adores his! the only thing that would make it better was if the two of you were matching.

he's honestly ready to start working the moment you leave for the night. simeon is able to convince him to at least wait until the weekend. after all, RAD has demanding coursework that he needs to dedicate his time to during the week. luke doesn't like this much, seeing as he's already this excited just thinking about the craft.

simeon sweetens the pot like the responsible adult he is-- if luke can wait until the weekend, then simeon will run out and grab all the supplies they could possibly need. they can make a day of it, with snacks and other little crafts to make for their friends. doesn't that sound nice?

somehow, luke is able to muster up the patience to wait until the weekend to begin his friendship bracelet quest. he does wake simeon up ass early on saturday morning, though. he can't help it! he's just a kid, after all.

the morning starts with breakfast (luckily for everyone, solomon slept in too late to offer to cook). luke chatters on and on about his plan. he had the foresight to ask just how you made the bracelet when you gave him his, so he's confident he can follow the instructions you gave him.

it goes... okay. at least at first. in the beginning, he'd get frustrated about how he couldn't quite remember what to do here or why this knot here looked funky. some kind words and a little assistance from lithe-fingered simeon are able to fix both his bracelet and his mood. eventually, he's all giddy laughs and big grins as he looks over his masterpiece. white and gold strands are somewhat neatly knotted together to mimic the design of the bracelet you made for him.

monday morning, bright and early, the little angel bounds up to you like a golden retriever off-leash at a dog park, all gilded hair and excitement galloping down the hall until he's by your side. he shoves the bracelet up towards your face and grins. look, mc! i made you a friendship bracelet, too! now we can match!

every day you wear that bracelet is another day luke finds a way to express his appreciation for your friendship. his go-to is to absentmindedly toy with the strings around your wrist at lunch or in class. sometimes he'll bump your bracelets together and smile at you, a silent question hung in the air between your matching grins: best friends forever, right?

[thewertsearch]

EB: i'm sorry karkat, i didn't realize we screwed up so bad. CG: ALRIGHT WELL CG: I WASN'T EXPECTING YOU TO MAN UP AND APOLOGIZE FOR IT, SO OK I'LL GIVE YOU CREDIT FOR THAT. [...] EB: i just feel kind of bad i fell asleep, i don't know what came over me. [...] CG: HEY, INOPPORTUNE NAPS HAPPEN IN THIS GAME.

I love that even at this early stage, Karkat keeps forgetting that he's supposed to be 'mad' at John.

CG: I MANAGED TO STAY AWAKE FOR SEVERAL WEEKS STRAIGHT, I DIDN'T WANT TO LET MY GUARD DOWN FOR A SECOND. [...] CG: AFTER IT WAS ALL OVER, AND WE RETREATED IN FAILURE CG: I FOOLISHLY DID. CG: AND THAT'S WHEN I SAW HIM. [...] CG: JACK.

Poor Karkat probably thought he was back from Alternia with a vengeance - which would be doubly painful, since Karkat liked Jack, and was completely against Exiling him.

CG: HE WAS WEARING A RING I DIDN'T RECOGNIZE, CERTAINLY NOT ONE BELONGING TO OUR QUEENS. [...] CG: HE WORE IT ON HIS ONE HAND, WHICH WAS COVERED IN OUR MUTANT BLOOD.

If Jack had got that blood from the troll session, we'd have a pretty good idea who it belonged to.

But Jack arrived with that blood. It came from the human session, and could have belonged to anyone there.

The narrative is giving it a lot of focus, though - even in Jade: Enter, the camera kept lingering on Jack's arm. This is 'important' blood, which will be shed in a pivotal moment later on.

Move over, Bilious Slick - there's a new god in these parts.

CG: I PRETTY QUICKLY DETERMINED THAT HE WAS FROM YOUR SESSION, NOT OURS. [...] CG: AND I WAS SORT OF RELIEVED CG: RELIEVED BUT ALSO ENRAGED CG: I'M SURE YOU KNOW THE FEELING. [...] EB: not really.

This is how you can tell John's not a programmer yet.

Get back to me when you've been debugging for two hours, and you realize you missed a free(). Then you'll know exactly what Karkat is feeling.

CG: I'VE GOT TO REWIND THE TAPE ON THIS CLUSTERFUCK AND FIGURE OUT WHAT WENT WRONG. EB: yeah, i should get going too. EB: my friend is pestering me, and i doubt she likes to be kept waiting. EB: (she is sort of the bossy type!) CG: WHY WOULD I CARE ABOUT YOUR DUMB HUMAN FRIEND AND HER PETULANT, MEANINGLESS DEMANDS.

'What went wrong' is the girl who's messaging John right now.

I cannot wait for Karkat to figure out who actually caused the Mistake, and confront Vriska directly. It'll be cathartic, I think, for his rage to be directed to someone who's deliberately responsible for their problems.

Karkat is no match for Vriska, of course - but he doesn't necessarily have to be. He's a leader, and once he starts yelling about who actually got them trapped in the Veil, the other trolls are sure to take his side, no matter how annoying he is.

Vriska is extremely resourceful, but if Karkat rallies all the surviving trolls against her, her victory is far from guaranteed. She'll be up against Terezi, Kanaya and Sollux - not to mention Feferi, who's recently proven she's not as much of a pushover as you'd expect.

This is all hypothetical, of course. Before we can talk about Vriska's plans, we need to understand what the fuck she's playing at here. It's possible that this was ultimately for everyone's benefit - but I think it's more likely an act of hubris. Vriska seems bent on fighting Jack directly, so I think she's messing with his timeline to make him vulnerable in some way. That's not how the Alpha works, Vriska!

[bethanydelleman]

What do you think Caroline and Darcy's dynamic was like, exactly? I get the feeling he never considered marrying her, and he doesn't strike me as the type to lead a woman on, especially not his best friend's sister. However, she's very obviously going for him, and they feel familiar enough to each other to be catty together. It seems like a delicate line to walk, not giving her hope while enjoying the company of a somewhat like-minded woman.

The only thing I can think of is he's hiding behind social convention, a.k.a he's supposed to make advances, she's supposed to respond, so *her* advances don't bind him to anything, don't count, but that seems... mean-spirited, especially to a woman he's close to, and to the sister of his best friend. He's caring at heart I don't like the idea of him brushing off playing with the Bingleys' expectations on a technicality.

While a lot of people in Austen's novels spend their time doing nothing but predicting matches, the members of the gentry did spend a lot of time together through visits and they talked to each other without motive. Look at Colonel Brandon and Elinor Dashwood, they have a pretty good friendship with no intention of marrying each other. We know that even pre-Harriet, Emma invited Mr. Elton over frequently and considered it just a social visit (I'm sure he was cautiously flirtatious). It was also common to have people just come and visit your house for several months. It wasn't mandatory to marry any single girl in the house after your visit!

I've always felt that Darcy might have been considering marrying Caroline before he met Elizabeth. A friend told me once that the first time she read the novel she thought Darcy and Caroline were a couple. But even if he wasn't, he doesn't reciprocate her advances but he enjoys her company, and I think that's the best he can do. Caroline seems happy to wait until he comes around and sees the light, whilst making it very clear that she's interested.

Darcy does make a fairly pointed statement about not liking women who scheme during the novel. He also treats Caroline and Louisa basically the same: dancing and gossiping with both of them which is a hint as well. I think that for Caroline, the possible prize is just way too big for her to stop if there is the smallest shred of hope. Also, I bet most women treat Darcy like Caroline does no matter how he acts, so he's kind of in a no win situation.

Charles never seems offended on his sister's behalf and Caroline drops all resentment to keep her all-access pass to Pemberley. I think Darcy probably knew that Caroline had no real heart to lose in the matter so he didn't feel too badly about being a mean girl with her.

Edit: thank you for catching the typo that implied single men had to marry all single women, my friend.

[joculine]

DIE Issue #1 Reread (Gillen & Hans)

What an excellent series that keeps on giving. For those not in the know, DIE is a really incredible fantasy horror comic about a group of teenagers who were sucked into a tabletop roleplaying game and spent two years in the bodies of their characters. They got out eventually, but lost one member of their party—25 years later, they are sucked back in. It's fucking great.

Art

First things first, the extreme shadows and harsh lighting from above in the 1991 sequence add so much atmosphere. The whole thing feels like a dream, or perhaps a stage play. Stephanie Hans always does fantastic things with light in her work, but this is something else. Here, it gives the effect of the world melting away, the focus turns to the players and the game, nothing else. Great introduction.

(Scans don't quite do this scene justice. I've done a bit of Photoshop to try to darken the colors to match my trade, but there is a subtle flow between the colors that is missing from a digital image.)

The colors in the section outside the bar are jaw dropping. Blacks, reds, and blue make such a dynamic scene.

I really like how much it reflects the Neo's costume. What do we take from that? This is, after all, the future for these characters. Rainy, flooding lights and glass, new technology. No more swords, dragons, or taverns, just cars, smartphones, and cities. I think the Neo's role as the "future" will remain relevant as we get deeper.

Ash's Name

Ash (I'm going to be calling the lead character Ash, she/her) notes that the only person outside her family to use her first name is Sol's mother—a fact that seems pretty true in 1991 but no longer in 2018. As we see, her wife, sister, and several other members of the party call her Dominic in this time period, at least before the game starts. Chuck doesn't, though she asks him too. Izzy starts to, then switches to Dominic. She also apologizes for not being "woke" in the 90s, which is very funny to me.

Something interesting—Izzy is also the first one to switch back to Ash after using Dominic. When she is mad, upset that Ash is starting to form another plan, she calls her Dominic. When she seems to show pity towards her over Sol, she calls her Ash. Very interesting. If memory serves, we will see Izzy act in a similar way through the comic, mostly accepting Ash's status as a trans woman, but occasionally alienating her, intentionally or not. At least, I think this comes up a few times, I could be misremembering.

I'll be watching Izzy a lot this reread. I like her and I want to see if I can get more out of her story.

Of course, we don't yet know that Ash is trans, nor do we get explicit textual confirmation that she's a trans woman. But I mean, look at her.

One more thing about her name—the double meaning here is intense:

We find later that the word "party" in use to a group of people is one of the things stopped by Ash's geas. Given that Chuck and Izzy both call her Ash, that name is not prohibited by the spell, but it sure seems like Ash has done a lot to distance herself from it even without magic.

This interaction with a bartender is really the perfect spark to reintroduce the game. The gift he has is not for Dominic or his friends—it's for Ash's party, the people who made their way through the world of Die 25 years ago. That act of naming (unknowing by the bartender's part!) sets them down that path again.

ONCE MORE...

There's a question I do have here—did they have a choice? Obviously, Ash could have tried getting rid of the die. She didn't have to get the band back together either. Did she need to grasp it?

Yes and no, it seems. She's the only one reaching for it, everyone else is thrown back at the force. On the one hand, it we can read this as a heroic attempt to hold back the object of danger. On the other, we can see it as more desperate, a fight against the flow to take back former glory. You can pretty easily read Gollum jumping into Mount Doom here—LOTR will be invited as a metaphor a lot more soon.

This also speaks to the trans experience quite a bit. The feeling of pain, the feeling of impending death, the choice that is not really a choice at all. Her life is hollow, surrounded by depressing reminders, an occupation that doesn't appear fulfilling, a lack of friends, and an inability to move forward.

Transitioning saves lives—it's going to save Ash's. It's a shame she has to go through a whole dark fantasy adventure to get there, but everyone's path is different.

We'll see if anyone else in the party has such a strong longing for the game. Angela probably has things the worst out of the party, but currently Ash's problems are the only ones that don't get immediately worse (better in fact!) by entering the game again.

Final arc spoilers here, but Chloe also pointed out the double meaning of "THE GRANDMASTER THREATENS THE REALM"—Of course, you can read this as Sol causing chaos on Die, but as we learn, the original Grandmaster is just a cover for Die itself. The realm stated here isn't the game, it's Earth.

(Also, note the glitch effects around the d20... there's that Neo future motif again.)

It's All For You

I had honestly forgotten that Ash and Sol shared a birthday. It makes a lot of things click into place. Sol tells Ash that the game was made for her. He says it was made for the party. He does not (or at least not often) say it was made for himself.

I don't think this is entirely true. Did Sol want to create something where Ash could find herself? Where the party could achieve their dreams? Perhaps. But I think the game is as much a gift for Sol as it is for Ash. He certainly seems to be excited to play it.

There's still a lot more that could be dug into this issue, especially surrounding Matt and Angela, but I'll save it for now.

All in all, it's a really fantastic opener for the story. It hooked me on a first read (Almost six years ago now! Wow!) and it still holds up, especially on a reread.

[itsbubbleteataro]

I SWEAR THIS ONE ISNT ANGST THIS TIME

I've recently gotten back into one of my favorite games of all time, Bg3. With hotfix #24 up and time to sit back and just enjoy my playthrough (its like my 6th). I was streaming the char creation to one of my friend's (even though my pc was slowly slowly screwing itself over and it still is rip) created the Tav I'll be using.

Yes its an oc tav but please bare with me

As i was playing i could not stop from developing a backstory for her, ended up homebrewing an entire race and how they interact with others during a brain storm session at the cafe i write at (please help the workers know my order and name now) and while listening to music i came up with a slow burn love story.

anyways, no more stalling and thank you so much for reading

Blood Laced Petals

The chilly night air whipped through Valora's hair sending shivers down her spine. Her hair, long and a dark pink mixed with dark purples, pulled tightly in a braid that reaches down to her ankles. Her skin, the color of the wild flowers beneath her feet, a shade of light ink mixed with rose. The horns on her head, a light green fading slowly into white. Her eyes, the sclarea a shade of black, her iris a shade of pink, matching her skin and the pupils, a shade of green matching her horns.

She wears a dress she calls "night song" with golden wires wraping around her legs up to her thighs. Her dress a dark green. A crooked old staff on her back.

Inhaling deeply Valora sighs, feeling the energy of life around her. Closing her eyes and sitting on the grassy, flower covered ground, she closes her eyes and meditates, failing to hear the chaos in her village about a mile away from where she sits.

Clueless as ever, opening her eyes up just as a long black tundral from the Notoloid gets its hold around her waist, effectively and unwillingly teleporting her into a mindflayer pod.

------

It takes a while of willing her eyes to open, then willing the pod to open for her to escape. Her bare feet landing on the squishy flesh like floor of the Notoloid.

No sooner had she exited the pod did fire and flame finally find its way into the room she was held in. The ship lurched forward and back, as if it were tossed by the deep waters of the sea than the clear skies.

Looking out a side of the Notoloid that was torn open from who knows what, she see's it down below. On hands and knees she crawls closer to the edge, amazed by what she sees below.

A realm, entirely of green and blue, much like the realm she came from, but also different. She can spot clusters of stone and various colors down below.

Looking up she can see the stars and beautiful night sky. Something she knew her people back home would be watching two.

Mistaking it for her home for a moment, she tried to access her magic. However no matter how much she willed it, she did not have a bond with this land, and therefore could not access any of her magic.

One last lurch forward of the ship caused her to black out once more.

-----

When she woke up, she was faced with several unfamiliar faces.

A half elf with pitch black hair and deeper eyes, with a strange trinket around her head. A human wizard, wrapped in robes of purple eyeing her with a grate curiosity. A pale elf with swirling white hair and blood red eyes. And a Gith with short brown hair.

Shooting up Valora looked almost relieved to see a Gith, as they had came to her realm a long time ago, and acted as rulers. Yes, Gith thought of her kind as underlings, nothing more than sheep to look after, she was relieved to see someone who she thought could help.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, shouting was heard just over the hill,

"Apologies, but it seems our introductions will have to wait"

Valora was helped up by man wrapped in purple as the woman with black hair left to go speed with a blue tifling. A woman they seemed to call "tav".

The group of them seemed to be following Tav, so Valora did as well. Blindly trusting the Gith as she had been trained to since a little girl.

She watched the group fight a pack of goblins. Valora wanted to help, but without her magic, without her bond to the land, it would be impossible for her without becoming an hindrance. And so she watched.

After the fight was done, she noticed the man with white hair, who she overheard Tav adress as "Astarion" eye the blood that was spilled with a mix of hunger and disgust. Valora found it odd, thinking about it, in her experience she had never known a creature to just feed off of blood.

"Hello there, quite sorry we never became acquainted"

A voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"My name's Gale"

The wizard wrapped in purple shook her hand

"Tav has gone up ahead, speaking with Zevlor"

Gale motions over to the blue and red tiflings speaking together. He then motions to each person respectively,

"That one's Lazel, we aren't sure if her bark is wore, or her bite"

He chuckles to him self after his poor joke.

"That one there is Astarion, don't let him scare you. And that one's Shadowheart. Quite the name if I say so"

Valora finds herself nodding along, taking in the information.

"I'm Valora"

She spoke, looking now at Tav who returned.

"Valora correct? Hello, I'm Tav-"

The two of you were cut off by a lurching, searing pain in the head as your two tadpoles formed a connection.

One end saw from your point of view, looking down at the realm as the Notoloid crashed down to the earth below.

The other saw a fight between Mindflayers and Cambions. In the end when it came down to it, the party that came out ontop was that of Shadowheart, Lazel and Tav.

Reeling the two of you looked at each other. Valora smiles shyly. She knew she had become a thrall, but was choosing to live her life here to the fullest while she could.

Tav smiled warmly at Valora who was rubbing the back of her arm.

"Your also infected? Come with us. We're searching for a cure"

Valora nodded her head and shook Tav's hand. Gale smiled while Lazel and Shadowheart looked unreadable. Astarion on the other hand looked a bit more unhappy. Another person ment another mouth to feed and more food they'd have to find.

He also wasn't a fan on how she just hid watching while the others did all the hard work, all the killing all the bloodshed. So he turned his nose up, thinking her a freeloader.

Tav led the ever growing group further inside the Druid camp. While tav was off speaking with a man with a stone eye, Valora wondered off a bit, Lazel making sure she kept an eye on her from a distance.

Valors felt quite a strong connection here, like she could bond with this land here and now, but she knew it would still take a few hours, and from the looks of the group and how they were already heading deeper into the grove she wouldn't have time. She would have to wait till they all set up camp.

Valora watched closely as Tav spoke with the head Druid Kaugha, wincing when she threatened to send a snake on a young tifling. She watched with stars in her eyes as Tav managed to diffuse the situation and give Astarion an opportunity to slip away.

Valora winced as they spoke with Nettie and received the wyvern poison. Biting her lip as once again, Tav diffused the situation, as Gale's blood started to boil, as ShadowHeart and Lazel remained stoic. She couldn't read Astarions expression.

As the sun began to set as they left the Druid camp behind, she watched as the group started to set up camp for the night, Valora mimicking the movements of Lazel.

The group welcomed Wyll who was ready at the camp sight. Then sharing what home cooked goodness Gale managed to throw together with what they found.

-------

As night fell and the group went to bed, Valora peaked her head out of her tent. Looking around and spotting no one, she headed deeper into the woods. Tav had given her a spare pair of clothes to sleep in, a pair of leather pants and white tunic. The top didn't quite fit but it was more than sufficient for sleepwear.

Finding a circle of trees, Valora took a seat, closing her eyes and started to meditate, making sure she could get a nice and deep connection with the land.

As she was doing so. Her horns started to softly glow a light green, matching the colors of her horns.

----

Astarion could have swore that if his heart could beat it would be beating currently. He was hunting a boar. Something that could let him a while.

It took him longer than he would have liked, his body and reactions already slower from his hunger.

He panted, his back to a tree and a boar half drained in his arms. He was pleased with this hunt. It would be alright. As he sunk his fangs back into the boar he spotted a dim glow coming from a circle of trees.

Finishing his meal and leaving the body aside, he snuck closer, if it were a stranger or a poor traveler who went alone, he could swipe a few things he may need.

As he peaked through some trees he saw Valora, her back turned to him. Her horns glowing as she feel into a deep meditation.

He stumbled, but careful not to make a sound.

She wasn't a tifling

She wasn't what he thought at all, she wasn't from this realm

He had questions. And questions he would ask when he could get her alone the next night.

--------

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND TGIS IS A SLOW BURN SO PLEASE BE PATIENT WITH ME

[asinglemagpie]

15 questions and 15 people, tagged by @gainux! Thank you, I love doing these too!

1: Are you named after anyone? So I actually found out extremely recently (in the last few months) that yes, I am. I am named after a friend of my maternal grandfather that my mum met once… but she was beautiful and smart and articulate, and that's what she wanted for me, and that was my name from that moment on.

Won't lie, two thoughts occurred: 1, wow I do not live up to my namesake LOL, and 2, did she potentially name me after one of my grandad's many affairs without knowing? (The first I said, the second I kept to myself but OOF…)

2: When was the last time you cried? Approximately 40 minutes ago because there's like 3 songs in the Hazbin Hotel soundtrack that make me cry, including the Finale XDDD

3: Do you have kids? Nope!

4: What sport do you play/have played? I played one netball match, and one basketball tournament - I was more of a dancer.

5: Do you use sarcasm? Constantly. I can't be sarcastic about it because then it sounds like lying lmao.

6: What is the first thing you notice about people? Probably their height. I'm a bit of a wee thing, so I'm always looking up at people XDD

7: What's your eye color? I'm honestly not entirely sure! I lean towards 'hazel' these days.

8: Scary movies or happy endings? Both - sometimes I need everyone to die, sometimes I need everyone to live.

9: Any talents? I can't dance any more, but I can still sing.

10: Where were you born? Cambridge. Closest I got to that university… XDD

11: What are your hobbies? I write again now! That takes up a lot of time between fic, novel, and RPing. I listen to music, loudly, and sing along whether it sounds good or not lol. I watch a lot of TV and movies, there's always something on in the background, and I like to try and watch a lot of non-English things too. I want to try going back to practising playing the flute again, and get back to reading… I've really fallen off the wagon with reading. There's a billion crafts I want to do and I'm set up for most of them, I just have to DO them which… yeah, we all know how that goes XDD

12: Do you have any pets? Sadly my only pets are my Furblets.

13: How tall are you? I am 5'4.

14: Favourite subject in school? Drama. I loved it, and did well in it. I started having severe memory issues in 6th Form which was very obvious when I suddenly couldn't remember scripts from one minute to the next, but through that and a whole host of other hardships I still managed to come out of it with top grades.

15: Dream job? Best selling author whose series gets turned into an award winning TV show or movie series with a ton of mech possibilities? Lottery winner?! In all seriousness… something I can support myself, my mum, and my partner with.

Tagging: @caspercryptid @heaventhing @lozzykins @neon-slime @rainbowd00dles @teawiththegods @theoi-crow @tonguetiedsmeghead @walnutgoat ... and anyone else who sees this and wants a go <3

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Healing Ties - Chapter 13 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Fanner followed Lucas upstairs and into a large room at the far end of the hall.

It was fancy.

The wooden floors in this room had been sanded smooth and varnished and the cerulean blanket on a large, plush bed matched the curtains and the rug on the floor.

Directly across from the bed sat a fireplace and to the side there was a table with enough chairs to seat four people.

Lucas shot Fanner a smile.

"Nice, huh? Yore and I share part ownership of this place, so we have this room set aside for when we or any of our friends are passing through."

Fanner nodded.

"It's very nice."

Lucas led the way over to a large wardrobe.

"Yore would have been happy with something simpler but I wanted something nice. I play pretend Companion sometimes so I get to go to all these fancy places but I've always lived on the road, moving between temporary campsites. Even if I'm not here very often, I wanted somewhere to come back to that would make me feel the way this place does."

"The places I've lived have been quite nice," Fanner said. "Comfortable and clean. None of it has ever been mine of course and where I go has been at someone else's whim."

"Well," Lucas said as he opened the door to the wardrobe. "Pick out anything you want. The clothes that are way too big for either of us are Yore's but you can take anything of mine you want and you can keep it. It can be yours."

"Really? But..."

Fanner's eyes skimmed the clothes hanging in the wardrobe.

There were some expensive looking robes in there.

"I don't want to take anything expensive or... or anything you really like or..."

"Take anything you want," Lucas insisted. "Keep in mind you still have some travelling to do tomorrow and some of the robes might not be the most practical but you're welcome to take one to wear once you've settled in if you like. I know a lot of ex-Companions aren't real comfortable in pants and shirts."

"No, it's okay. I wasn't but I've been dressing this way for a while now. It is more practical."

Lucas nodded.

"I prefer it."

Lucas went and sat down at the table to wait and Fanner was left alone, staring into the wardrobe.

Lucas had told him he could have whatever he wanted but Fanner didn't want to take anything expensive or that Lucas particularly liked.

Perhaps he could just decline the offer.

He could clean and mend the clothes he was wearing.

That was something any Companion was more than capable of.

He only hadn't been because he had been low on energy but after taking so much from Yore and being mostly healed now he could surely spare it.

But was that what Lucas wanted from him?

For him to decline the offer and let him keep all of his clothes?

Fanner didn't feel like that was the case.

He felt like Lucas pitied him and wanted to do something kind for him.

Fanner didn't deserve the pity or the generosity after all he'd done but he couldn't tell Lucas all of it and he wasn't sure Lucas would condemn him for his actions if he did.

These people freed slaves.

It was hard to imagine they always found non-violent ways to do that.

Would they blame him for killing someone else to keep them from killing him?

No. They would praise him.

They would want him to do it again.

They would tell him that he'd been willing to do it to save himself, so why would he not do it to save others?

But he hadn't meant to do it at all and he didn't want to do it again.

"Is this too much?" Lucas asked and Fanner's head jerked around to look at him.

He was supposed to be doing something but he had just been staring into the wardrobe for several minutes, lost in his own thoughts.

Fanner gave a sharp shake of his head.

"No. Sorry. I... I get distracted sometimes. Sorry."

Lucas nodded.

"We were told that about you."

Fanner swallowed.

"I suppose that is what I was best known for."

"Was? What are you known for now?"

"Nothing, I suppose."

"Where have you been for the last year? From what I know there wasn't any evidence that you'd been sold but you weren't at Milaine House anymore. Nobody knew where you'd ended up."

"They realised I wasn't a normal Companion and... and I couldn't be legally sold. Or kept at all. But they were curious, I suppose, so they were... they were testing me. What I could do."

"And what can you do?"

Fanner shrugged.

"What I did to Yore. And then... and then I can use that energy I take, like... like I recover from injuries more quickly, so they hurt me sometimes and..."

"Did they tie you down?"

Fanner swallowed and nodded.

"While they did that. Yes."

"Ah. Yore didn't know about that, did he?" Lucas asked and Fanner shook his head. "He wouldn't have tied you up if he'd known."

"He had to. He couldn't trust me."

"Well it's over now anyway, so we don't have to worry about what he would have done. Yore and the people he's taking to really do just want to help you, you know? Nobody's going to hurt you anymore."

Fanner nodded as he turned back to the wardrobe.

He believed that, at least on a surface level.

He didn't think they were tricking him.

He just knew what happened when people realised his ability was more valuable than he was.

He had known Mr Burrows his entire life.

Mr Burrows didn't live at Milaine House but he'd visited frequently and personally checked in on them.

He had insisted they never be beaten or punished cruelly and even slaves who failed to sell for so long that they would never bring in a profit like Fanner and Danya were never sold off cheaply for less savoury purposes.

But, in the end, it had been Mr Burrows who had instructed a man with no surgical experience to attempt to cut out Fanner's kidney while he was fully conscious.

Any values he might have held had meant nothing when there had been something else he wanted more.

"Here," Lucas said and Fanner jumped when he realised he was right beside him.

He offered Fanner a shirt.

"These pants as well."

"Oh, uh... thank you."

Lucas put his foot next to Fanner's and nodded, satisfied.

"Take those leather boots in the corner there as well. They'll serve you well. The ones you're wearing weren't made for this kind of terrain."

Fanner looked down at his shoes.

Lucas wasn't wrong.

The soles had started to come unstuck on both of them.

They had been good shoes, just not for this.

"Thank you," Fanner said again. "I just, I wasn't sure..."

Lucas waved away his concern.

"No, I know that was a bit much to throw at you. You were trained as a Companion. It's hard for you to put yourself first."

Fanner shook his head but he didn't say anything.

If only Lucas knew just how much he was doing exactly that.

[ifyoucantstepanythingnice]

I enjoy writing, I enjoy expressing and sharing my opinion. I've actually tried a few of these in several formats but they keep petering out. But always an itch always follows shortly after, the desire to immerse myself in something and express my feelings on it.

My new idea is music, I'm actually really bad at music appreciation. Trying new music, being able to hear instruments, just expanding my horizons. The idea blossomed when a friend of mine posted the following video:

I found myself not being able to hear it, the common link. This has happened a lot of times when I hear people talking about music. I figured I'd start an experiment that will either expand my horizons or hopefully at least be enough fun that I will stick with it.

The experiment - I will listen to two albums a week and share my thoughts on them. Sometimes I will theme, sometimes they will be recommendations. I'll try to avoid repeating albums and I think the most important thing - I'm going to try to keep to the positive in all my reviews. This may mean some will be short, but keeping things light and casual may just be what I need to keep things going. So, end of preamble. What will I choose for my first? It has to be a heavy hitter. Michael Jackson's Thriller, or Led Zeppelin's IV? Almost as good...

Color Me Badd - C.M.B

So one thing I was struck by is just how this wasn't at all what I was expecting. I have heard of Color Me Badd before but honestly don't remember any of their radio play. I was expecting much more of a hip-hop influence due to them being largely a 90s band, and when the track starts playing you think that is exactly what you will get. But then the singing starts and you wonder if they accidentally left the smooth slider set to maximum. The energy doesn't match the expectation and you have to overcome the initial whiplash. Once I did though I have to admit I got into it, I don't think this will become part of a regular rotation but I'd be lying if 'Groove My Mind' wasn't an earworm. Also I feel there is a bit of influence here, if I try to imagine a band from a 90s teen sitcom I feel they will sounds a lot like this. Of course those that know more could tell me they were a part of the wave and not the beginning of it, see my mission statement from above. Overall this was fun enough and random enough that I feel it lends to a strong start to this. Hopefully I can talk with you all for a long time to come.

Top Track: All 4 Love

[junova]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞.

notes: howdy guys, it's been a while. i've been taking a break and finally starting writing again, yay. it's been a rough few months and still treading through it, but i hope you enjoy a piece of my heart with this one.

if it's any consolation, my heart broke while writing this. </3

pairing — boxer!steve rogers x fem!reader

concept — steve has to come with terms of you not wanting him just as much as he wants you.

wc — 6.7k+ [yeah...]

warnings: 18+, themes alluding to sex, emotional cheating, soft!steve, heartbreak, kind of unrequited vibe going on, over all ✨ angst ✨

Even if it was the thousandth time to watch his body move in the ring, you still were memorized by the way he moved. You were in complete admiration of how his hips flowed so fluidly through his punches. Just like always, he was aware of your presence as you stood next to Sam and Wanda, both of them with proud smiles on their faces as he defeated yet another opponent.

Watching as they raised his arm, declaring him as the champion, something he’d been striving so intensely for, the past few months. Even if his body was bruised and littered with the hits Rumlow had been able to mark his body with and not to mention the busted lip, making him taste the blood with nearly every swallow.

It didn’t matter because he had followed through with what he had set his mind out to do. The looks Rumlow was giving him after all the smack talk he had served him was satisfying enough. Even if he didn’t think you did, he saw you standing there alongside his friends, celebrating the win of his life.

He couldn’t but smile proudly at your presence, even if the disapproval you have against his lifestyle was well known between the two of you and everyone else in your friend group.

Steve knew you weren’t a fan of the injuries you brought home in your shared apartment, the nights you actually stayed there. With Jordan’s absence from New York, you’d been staying there more consistently than ever.

He would never admit it out right, but it made his heart full. With you home, he could protect and he worried wherever you weren’t there. Even if he knew you were fully capable of defending yourself if need be, it would always make him feel better when you were close to him.

Just like him, you could confess it even to yourself, but when you were back in the apartment you shared with Steve, you’d always felt safer.

He went straight to the locker room, to clean himself up as best as he could without making his friends and Tony wait too long. He’d usually go straight to them but the group took notice he held himself back when you were around.

The first match you went to and he came up with bruises running along both rib cages, a bloody nose accompanied by a busted lip, he immediately took notice of the way you cowered away from him. Barely even looking at him as you congratulated him. From then on out, he realized how much it bothered you to see him physically injured.

When you’d come, he’d always make sure to clean himself up before. It really worked out on the days he didn’t want to be around many people. Only the stragglers from the crowd would be left, and his friends who supported him nearly every time.

As soon as he made his way over to the group, he was met with Sam’s warm smile pulling him into a warm hug. You found yourself wincing as soon as Steve did. “Easy there big buy, bruises are still fresh.” Sam let up just a tad, before everyone was congratulating him. You stood back with Tony, watching the proud smile grow on his face as he watched his prodigy surpass his monumental goal.

“You should think about coming to more matches. He fights better when you’re here watching him.” You twisted your neck so you could see his coach more clearly who was standing right beside you. “I’m sure he plays just as well when I’m not here. I still watch them everytime, just from home when it’s too much for me to stomach.”

You looked forward away from Tony, Steve coming into your line of vision as Sharon, his ex who had surprisingly shown up to corral by his side, someone you’d hadn’t seen near him in the past few weeks since she’d been out of the country for work.

“His technique and endurance is the same, but his intensity always rises higher when you’re here. I’m not the only one who notices, maybe the only one bold enough to say it to you.” Tony spoke as watched the man he took in when Steve was just sixteen.

Truly, it made his heart swell with pride to see him reach the level of success he had been dreaming for him since the pair had met. Knowing Steve for the past five years, also made him hyper aware of the girl he never seemed to shut up about, not that you’d ever find out.

No matter how much Tony was dying to let the words slip off his tongue.

“I’m just happy to be here for him.” Keeping your words short as you watched Sharon move closer to him, her hand resting on his chest and he didn’t even move away from it. You tried to ignore the ugly shade of green rising in your chest, but with him it always seemed to show.

Not that you’d had a right to, you weren’t single or emotionally available by any means, but the thought of him being with someone who had hurt him so much made you more protective of him than you had a right to be.

“C’mon little dove, have you thought about why you’d rather stay in the dinged up apartment with Steve than be with your boyfriend of three years across the country?” He pressed harder, making sure you were careful of your response. “My friends are here and so is my family. I can’t just leave everyone I love behind.” Your gaze never left Steve’s as he finally was out of Sharon’s grip.

“Steve’s here, too. You sure it has nothing to do with him?” Part of you couldn’t stand there with Tony and lie to him because you weren’t sure what was the nature of your relationship with the boxer.

Thankfully, you were saved from responding by the devil himself as made his way over to the two of you. Much to your dismay, he had to get in a few more words before Steve was in earshot. “Just think about why Steve lives with you when he’s had more than enough to move out for a while now.”

Before you could even process the words leaving his mouth, your favorite man in the ring immediately has you wrapped up in his arms. Holding you so close and so tightly, not even caring if it put more pressure on his lungs than he wished.

“Congrats on the win, Champion. I’m so proud of you.” The arms you had around him were placed gently, too afraid to put any weight on the new bruises. Not to mention the old ones which were still healing.

Once he pulled away from you, just enough so you could look at him. He hummed at Tony and with one nod of his head he knew when the young boxer wanted to be left alone. More times than not, it is usually with you.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight. Isn’t Jordan in town?” Not even when it was the biggest moment of his career thus far did he care to indulge in his victories. Always it seemed to be looking after you.

“Stevie, this is your night. We don’t have to talk about me — we’re always talking about me.” For a moment he almost bought your act until he looked into those dazzling eyes of yours, ones he never seemed to grow tired of in the past few years.

“I’m not happy unless you’re happy. So, if you need a night where we just watch romcoms and chow on cookie dough ice cream, you know I’m all yours.” Unknowing to the two of you, everyone of your friends was watching the encounter and still couldn’t believe you still were with your current boyfriend.

Or that Steve was just waiting for you patiently. Something that didn’t come easy for him around women. Before you, he didn’t really do relationships with women that didn’t end with him in their bed at some point. Somehow, much to everyone’s dismay, he managed to keep his interactions platonic with you.

At least in their eyes.

“No, Stevie. I’m fine. He just didn’t follow through this time. It’s not the end of the world, I’ll be fine. Tonight, I just wanna be by your side and celebrate you.” Although, he didn’t really believe you Steve decided he would let it go.

“Regardless of it, thank you for coming tonight. Means the world to me.” It really did. Even more so, when he felt like he was one of the reasons you were still in Brooklyn and not in California living with your boyfriend instead.

“Oh, hush bubba. You’re getting so soft on me and you haven’t even had a proper drink in you yet. Let’s just celebrate with our friends, yeah?” You kissed his cheek sweetly, before you were off to Bucky and Nat’s place to get properly fed and surely get Steve drunk off his ass.

It really was the elephant in the room you were choosing to ignore. The fluttering feeling of adventurous butterflies traveling to spaces you didn’t know existed. Everytime he pulled you close to his side or kissed your temple.

When Bucky would do something monumentally stupid, he would whisper a line in your ear humorous enough to hear you laugh. Even right now, when you knew he was exhausted, muscles sore and aching — Steve was still tending to whatever you needed.

In this moment, your body nestled between his legs as he draped his arm across your chest, letting him hold you close was exactly what you needed. Even if you tried to remove yourself several times because of the new injuries, he would never let you.

“What’s next, Rogers?” Steve watched as he craned his neck towards Sharon. You’d almost forgotten she was here, she’d been so quiet most of the night.

“A whole lot of rest and then in a few weeks, right back into training.” He spoke with pride because winning the title went hand and hand with defending it. “You should come to the club. Danielle’s been itching to see you, again.”

Steve grimaced, not just as Sharon’s words, but with how stiff your body became. The way you rubbed back and forth with the tip of your fingers against his forearm came to a halt.

You weren’t really sure what to do because now you felt horrible for even feeling like you had a right to be upset in the first place. Because you didn’t. You weren’t single and Steve was. In this space in time, he did nothing wrong.

When you followed Nat back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine, away from him, it felt like he had made a mistake.

Just watching as you followed Nat up the pathway, in your pretty green dress, as you messed with the necklace adoring your neck. Something he learned you did when you were anxious.

“Why would you bring that up now? In front of her?” He was slightly pissed off she had driven you away and out of his arms. Steve would have you within his grip constantly if you would let him. Not that you did, but it was still a certain something he found himself wishing for. More than not though, someone else always seemed to hold your attention whenever he wasn’t in the ring.

Jordan. Tony. Sam. Natasha. Bucky. Wanda.

Tonight had seemed it might go in a different direction, until Sharon steered your mind elsewhere. One where you were a girl who missed her boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

Unknowingly to Steve, Jordan was the last thing on your mind, which allowed the guilt to settle in. Maybe, just this one time it was rightfully placed. The thoughts you were having scared you senseless — making you want to do something you knew you shouldn’t.

You just sat there on the padded bar tool as Nat grabbed a bottle of white with a bottle of red. Like time and time again, Nat read your mind just as she often did. “So, why couldn’t he come this time?” She drilled into you, her iridescent daggers as piercing as ever.

“He said he forgot his mother asked him to help her move out of the house. He said he’d make it up to me some other time.” Just like always.

But you held your tongue before voicing it to anyone other than yourself. It’d been months since you’d seen him in the flesh, and it was the first time he spoke to you in days when he informed you he’d been unable to spend any of his time off with you.

“He’s just never here and he keeps asking for me to move to Los Angeles, but my whole life is here. Before, he never seemed to really pressure me. He was always patient with me to travel at my own pace but I think he ultimately thought I would eventually go there with him.” You breathed out, scared of the truth dripping right out of you.

“I just-, you know what? Nevermind. It’s isn’t important.” She was never one to bite her tongue, but she found herself trying to when your feelings were involved.

“Tell me. What is it?” Your curious, bambi eyes peering into your soul, dying to pull the confession right out of her.

“Do you even miss him when you’re apart for so long? I’m not judging but it just seems like you’re okay. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but why don’t you ever go to him or Jordan to you?” Natasha spoke softly, afraid she might be poking the bear just a bit.

“Of course I miss him. I would see him if I could. I’m just a little too busy right now with work and my family.” You attacked back, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” With both bottles of wine on the counter, she went to grab three more wine glasses — for Sharon, herself, and you.

“Say what? What the hell are you talking about?” You pushed her as she put out the bottles of wine as she managed to link the three vines of the glasses in her left fingertips. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She was regretting it now, because maybe you weren’t quite ready to hear the words everyone else knew to be true. Anyone who was around the two of you could see it.

Perhaps, Nat never spoke a word of it because at the very least, she thought you wouldn’t be as naive to see his feelings. The ones he seemed to offer you on a silver platter, whether you wanted to reject or accept the offering, giving it to you wholeheartedly.

Following her out the patio door where the two of you stopped, not moving a step further. She didn’t really say anything either. Letting you bask in the glow before the fall.

He was laughing so hard, his hand clutching his chest as him. Golden hair shining bright by the fire pit, almost as

lively as his smile. Even if it looked like his spirit could have been beaten out of him tonight, he’d never show it.

When he had trouble keeping his eyes open, he’d force himself to stay alert because moments he could spend with ones he loved seemed too precious to pass up. Especially over the past few months — he didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Through the schedule Tony had him on, his life was eating, breathing, living boxing. Training every day in the gym, whether it be furthering his techniques in the gym to Tony making him regret any mistake he made in the ring.

Even some days he was just weight training when Tony told him he could rest. He couldn’t though. Not when he could taste the sweetness of his dreams on the tip of his tongues.

Every day, dawn till dusk, training consumed every moment of his time. Steve thought his body was restless before, but now? Nothing came even close to this.

Leading Steve to be blissfully unaware of what was actually going in that fantastically bold head of yours.

“Just spill it, Romanov.” You pressured her, but your eyes were too weak to redirect your directions elsewhere. Only Steve holding your attention at one.

“Remember when Steve left for Spain for three months with Tony?” Your body stilled, having a feeling you knew where this was going. Regretting you told her what had happened with Steve in the first after promising him it would just stay between the two of you.

“It was the year Jordan and I had split for two months.” The memory of what happened always clouding your better judgement. The way his eyes shined still haunted you. “Steve had already been there a month when it happened and the second I told him he insisted on flying me out.”

Looking at him fondly, across the greenery before speaking so softly as if he was right next to you, “I could never say no to him. I still can’t.” Nat tried to ignore it but she could see through the fog of your first love fading even if you were trying your hardest to avoid the inevitable heartache.

The care you held for him was oozing out of you, bursting and breaking at the seams. When you kept thinking of him more than a roommate, more than a friend.

“Dove, you can’t just keep pretending your feelings don’t exist. The more you try to bury the root deep the more it will grow.” You knew she was right, but you really didn’t want to hurt anyone.

You supposed you were already causing pain unintentionally. “His biggest insecurity is him. Jordan thinks I’m still here because of him.” You confessed, the ongoing fight no secret to anyone, really.

“Aren’t you?” Maybe if you had been a better liar, you could’ve convinced her but everyone could read you like the back of your own hand.

You hated the spotlight she was putting on you, but even more so because she was right. Moving forward with Jordan meant leaving someone else behind, something you couldn’t seem to prepare yourself to do.

“I love Jordan. He’s my first love and I thought he would be the greatest one, too.” You really want to stop the love and admiration flowing out of you, but you couldn’t choose who you love and maybe it was time for you to stop fighting it.

“Then, I met Steve. He responded to the ad I put out for the spare room in my apartment and we met for coffee.” If you had listened to your mother, her wishes of you not to be in the company of a man who was a complete stranger, you’d never meet the most important person in your life.

“He looked more like a boy back then. Clean shaven. No beard. Steve was still muscular, but not nearly as toned as he is now. But his eyes? They pulled me right in. Still do, every damn time.” You should have held some sort of shame, but you didn’t.

“You should do something about it, Dove. He isn’t going to be single forever.” Nat questioned as you followed her lead, back to the roaring fire.

“Nat, I love Jordan. I could never do that to him.” You really couldn’t, but you also couldn’t find it in you to move with him either. “I know you love him, but you aren’t in love anymore.” Growing closer and closer, back to the group, you saw him clearly.

“What do you mean?” Trying to ignore the pain in your chest as Natasha spoke. “I think you’re scared of ending it with Jordan. Dove. I’ve known you for a long time now and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you do with Steve.”

The words spilling out of her lips left you a little broken — the truth spearing you through. She wasn’t wrong, not one bit. Nat never nearly was, especially when your feelings were involved. Steve had become such an enigma to you in the past year.

The line of platonic friendship and overflowing emotional intimacy was becoming too entangled for you to even comprehend.

“Just think about it. I just want you to be happy.” The rest of the night, it’s all you could think about. A few days passed and it was still in the forefront of your mind.

When Steve was walking home with you this week, you couldn’t stop wondering all the hypotheticals swarming inside your dreams.

He could tell, too.

You’d never been so quiet, not ever. He’d like to hear you, especially when you were drunk. Like you seemed to be now, at least to him but tequila that lit a fire in your chest a few hours ago was beginning to wear off. Just when the feelings you kept trying to avoid would seep there way back in like your furry, fat cat Thor when he wormed his body through the gate into the apartment.

“What’s wrong? You’ve seemed off this week.” You felt his hand kiss yours, but he didn’t bother to find it’s home. He’d been keeping his distance or at least been trying to. You'd been so vulnerable lately and the last thing he wanted to do was exploit that.

Ever since Sharon had made a comment about Danielle, and you escaped with Nat, something changed. You more guarded around him, more than you'd ever been since you met.

Steve knew there was a reason for it, but he didn't want to push you — not when it looked like you would combust into a breakdown at any given moment.

“I’ve just been thinking about where my life is going and where I want it to go.” You confessed, letting your words linger. “Jordan wants me to move with him to California and I’m running out of reasons to say no.” In perfect harmony, your eyes met his at the same time.

They weren’t joyful what his bright blues usually possess, but this time they were indifferent. Not even you could read them.

“Do you want to move there with him?” Steve asked you, his heart on the verge of dropping into his stomach. “If it will make you happy, you should.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, you watched him drift away from you.

“I don’t know. It might.” Both of you coming to a halt, walking up to the apartment the two of you shared.

“He’s insecure about you. It’s why he’s pressuring me.” The two of your bodies so close but so far away as you stood in the doorway. With a confusing gaze and pouty lips, practically guiding you into temptation.

“He used to always tell me you were in love with me. He was fully convinced, still is. I never thought so. You were just my best friend, that was it. I just never really thought about it unless Jordan brought it up.” You would have loved to blame your sudden outburst on the alcohol, but it was something you'd been dying to do.

Before you never had the guts, but you a felt a pull towards Steve lately, like maybe there was something more trying to burst under the seams.

“I thought Tony was bullshitting me, fucking with me, but I didn’t ever give it a thought. Then, Nat brought up Spain.” Nights you told yourself were a mistake, but deep down it was the probably the safest you felt in a long time.

“What are you talking about? What did Tony say?” Fetching for the key, he slid it in before opening the door for you and following you inside. “Steve, why do you still live here?” Blushing cheeks and a string of incoherent words was all you could make out from him.

As he headed for the small couch, trying to make up an excuse good enough. One which you’d actually believe, he hoped.

“You make four times as much as me, if not more. For some reason, you’ve decided to stay in this shithole apartment — it doesn’t make sense.” He wished you would make sense of it, that way he didn’t have to say a word.

“Do you want me to move out?” He questioned, watching your movements. If you wanted him to move out, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

It was the last thing you wanted, but the line between your friendship with him was always blurred. Only now, when it was vaguely pointed out by the two people close to the both of you — it became more apparent than ever.

“No, I just, I guess I’m asking why. You know you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, but this place is a dump, Steve. Why on earth would you wanna stay here?” When he looked up, where you stood above him having a hard time biting his tongue.

Because you’re here.

It’s what he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the right and he would just be an asshole if he put you in a compromising position. He already felt guilty enough with his feelings in the first place, he didn't need to pile on.

“I guess it’s just easier to stay. It’s so close to the ring and I’m maybe a tad too comfortable.” You sat next to him on the couch. Finding yourself trapped in the green of his eyes. “Don’t you want something better?” Maybe it was him or maybe it was you. Neither of you could tell.

The two of you inched closer until Steve was caressing your thigh, just with the tip of his thumb. “I’m more than happy with where I’m at.”

“Well, I’m asking because I need to go to California. Just for a bit. I need to see Jordan, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.” He didn’t stop touching, not even with the mention of his name.

Even if it pierced him every time you talked about him. Or when Jordan came to town, he felt like he didn’t exist to you.

He didn’t blame you, not at all. Jordan was your highschool sweetheart, and you wanted so badly for it to work but something was holding you back. Something you were trying to let go of.

“He loves me so much and wants to start building this whole new life, but how am I supposed to tell him?” Steve said nothing, letting you sink into the ground.

“He’s been nothing, but kind and loving. Always there, always supportive. The best partner I could have asked for.” Steve laced your hand in his like it was the most natural thing in the world, making butterflies erupt at full speed.

You couldn’t really pinpoint a moment when he started, but all you knew is how safe his warm, calloused hands made you feel. Since the moment you met, never failing to comfort you when needed.

“Then what’s the problem, Dove?” Steve questioned you, untangling his body from yours.

If he was going to help you, he needed to think and being so close to you wouldn’t get himself where you needed. Above all, you didn’t make any easier when a small whine left your throat — tugging at his heart strings.

“We never talk about what happened in Barcelona.” You watched his body tighten, muscles in his arm constricting.

It made him feel just as uneasy as it did to you. At least you could find comfort in that.

“Dove, there’s a reason for it. You and I both know it.” Steve was right. His self righteous sense of nature always kicked in when you wanted it the least.

“You don’t think about it? Because I do.” Pushing weight on his heart, you were very aware you held. You weren’t too naive to know just how much he cared for you, but coward enough to try and make him admit it first.

“You were broken up, things are different now. We’re home where you have a boyfriend and I have boxing.”

“Yes, where I have a boyfriend who wants me to abandon everything I hold close to me to join him without even bothering to ask me what I want.” You puffed out, exhaustion coming in overflow. “The past year, he hasn’t once asked me what I want.”

The boy with golden locks found himself wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, nurse you back to health with all the love he could offer.

But even he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep on spreading himself thin over a woman who was so conflicted, so distraught she was collapsing within herself. If he wasn’t too careful, he might fall right beside you.

“Before we got back together, he asked me.” You confessed, feeling better as soon as the secret flew from your mouth. “He asked you what?” Steve pressed on, a bit terrified of it truly, but even he had to know.

“He asked if anything happened between us the months I was there and I lied. Ever since we met, he’s been insecure. He thinks I’m going to leave you for him and it wasn’t the first time he asked either.” You wish you hadn’t dealt with the two of them so poorly, but with the expression on Steve’s face you knew you had.

“He knows I lied and it hurts even more he stayed with me anyways.” Steve didn’t move, his fear keeping him still.

“I don’t know how to be his after you, but I don’t know how to let go of my high school sweetheart either.” You felt trapped, in between an impossible decision. An old love, who loves you past your mistakes, past the hurt and a soulful heart admiring you from where you’re at and nothing less.

“Those nights don’t have to mean anything if you don’t want them to.” He spoke softly, his beautiful orbs catching yours in the moonlight peeking through the window.

“They mean too much to me, that’s the problem.” If he didn’t move as you inched closer to his body, planting yourself in front of him, you could tell he was straining himself.

“Do you remember the first time?” He looked confused, wondering if you truly were bold enough to speak of something you shouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Your hand found his chest, feeling the pulse of his rapid heart beat. “I was so shy and timid the first time with you, but you guided me so well.” Too fond of the memory of him worshipping every part of your body.

The very thing he wanted to do since the moment he met you, but Steve wanted more than that. Now more than ever.

“You don’t have to remind me, Dove. I remember.” He swallowed deeply, trying to erase the permanent memory of your body writhing beneath him, moaning out his name, begging him for more.

He still found himself thinking about it. Those two months with you had just amplified what he felt even more because now he knew what it was like for you to wake up in his arms, bare skin against his own.

The way you curled into his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist for optimal comfort.

Or when he’d wake up before you, which was most days, he’d find you murmuring his name in your sleep while soft fingertips caressed your skin lulling you into a more peaceful slumber.

“I never forget, Dove. That’s the problem.” With one finger, he pushed back the hair falling in your face tucking it behind your ear. “I tried to move past it, I went on a couple dates with this woman, Danielle.” You already felt your heart clench at the thought of him with someone else.

“She’s kind, smart, and beautiful and she seems to like me. Sharon keeps bugging me to take her out again since she set the two of us up.” Steve was trying to talk calmly, but he couldn’t ground himself. Especially when you only seemed to pull back further from him.

It was weird that Sharon set the pair up, considering she dated Steve not too long ago but it seemed she could put her feelings inside if it was for your despair.

In her daunting eyes, you were the reason her and the promising boxer broke up in the first place. As cliche as it was, she offered Steve an ultimatum after six months of dating — her or you.

Steve picked you.

It wasn’t like he loved her at that point. He did care for her, but you just meant too much to him. When kind, iridescent eyes met his own for the first time Steve never was able to stop thinking about them. Or you for that matter.

Carefully calculated as Steve could be, he managed to trap you between the closed door of his bedroom and his toned body.

“But I want to hear you say something before I do.” His gaze never faltered for a moment as he played with the hem of the short slip dress adoring your taut figure.

Half of your mind was begging you to retreat into your room and forget the last time you’d been pressed up against him like this. The other half wanted to see what he would do once he knew you were in the palm of his hand once again.

You had a feeling he already did.

His beard was grown out and his silky, golden hair that almost reached his shoulders make him look even more deliciously sinful.

“What’s that?” You tried not to gulp loudly, but if you even made the slightest movement, he would notice. “Tell me you’re in love with him.” His soft thumb caressing your side, not sure if he was trying to soothe himself or you.

“Just tell me five years down the line, you see him right there with you. Just say it, so I can move on.” He couldn’t even look at you, he couldn’t take the inevitable. “Tell me we’re just friends and Jordan’s your future.” You met his eyes, the prettiest blues you’ll ever see.

Commanding your attention without even trying — every damn time. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but you knew seeing him hurt was chipping a piece of you away. Watching his arched eyebrows furrowed in distress, fine lines being made in the middle for proof.

Soft fingertips met his skin, smoothing out his furrowed brows, closing his eyes trying to remember what you smelled like. Just like Sharon reached her breaking point, he had too. Steve couldn’t watch you any longer without being the one you wanted without a doubt.

“Stevie.” You softly whisper, before pulling him into your arms.

Even if he was double your size, he let you hold him as best as you could. Comfort him even if you were the reason he’s breaking.

The strong, persistent boxer had been transported back to the sick and thin kid he once was before all the guns and glory came. Steve was right back to where he got rejected by anyone and everyone. A time and many places where no one gave a damn about Steve Rogers, not anyone he wished for.

You watched him untangle himself from you, but you weren’t sure just how much time had passed. A few minutes? Thirty? An hour?

Only time could tell and she wasn’t really on your side at the moment.

“I’ve only found love once. Back in high school, there was this girl, Hazel. She was kind, sweet, eyes that shined like fresh honey. The first person to ever show any interest in me and I was in love with the fact that someone actually wanted me.” Steve felt his heart clench at the memory he wished to forget.

“I truly believed I loved her with every fiber in me and I thought she cared about me too, until I realized she was just using me to get to Bucky.” You watched the distress wash over him again and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel appreciated and loved. Not rejected and forgotten.

“It broke my heart for months because I truly believed I was in love with this girl who I hardly knew.” He sighed deeply, like he somehow already was aware of the soft whisper of goodbye.

“It always kind of stayed with me, not ever feeling like I was good enough for anyone until Tony found me. Graduated high school and I started training dawn till dusk until I couldn’t anymore just to start all over and do it the next day.” He was looking everywhere but you. Even if there was not a thing in this damn hallway, but two pressured hearts.

“Not too long after, I met you and I remember thinking this is the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met in my life.” Now, feeling like an absolute dick because you truly didn't deserve for this wonderful man to be in your life.

“You were so kind to me and you had no reason to be, but I learned it’s just who you are. This amazingly bright full beam, shining their light on everyone else — not paying attention to how much they give even if it’s everything they have.” Your skin felt hot beyond comparison, the passion in the words he spoke deeper than the memory of his skin against your own.

“I always tried to ignore it, how stupidly kind and thoughtful you are. How much you take care of me when you don’t have to. You cleaned my wounds for months without even asking me what I was doing.”

“I already knew you had a boyfriend, one you love very much, but I couldn’t stop myself from being around you. Now, I have to leave. I need to move on for me because I know how this ends for me — how it always has.” He sighed before walking away, leaving you hanging in every conceivable way. You didn’t notice the suitcase by the door before. Until he was walking out of the apartment with his possessions in hand — out of sight and out of mind.

“Wait!” He was already making it to his car, the old beat up pickup truck he couldn’t seem to get rid of when you reached him. “I just need time, Steve.” You’d been sprinting after him, until you caught up to him, making his attention fully focused on you.

“Jordan’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had — I don’t know how to let him go.” You were crying because maybe, deep down you were hoping you could have your cake and eat it too.

“And you’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with, Dove. I can’t keep sticking around hoping you’ll wake up one day and feel the same.” He emptied his belongings in his truck before returning his attention towards you.

“Steve, don’t do this. Please. Don’t leave me.” You’d become so dependent on him, more than you realized. “You’re the only person who truly loves me and not for who they want me to be.” Trying to plead with him, but it felt like you were only pushing him even further away.

“Then tell me I’m the only one you want.” But all he was left with silence because you couldn’t and he already knew what you didn’t. He knew you hated change more than anything, that you’d rather stay in what was comfortable even if you were presented with a different option.

Someone you wanted more.

With tears in your eyes, you looked up at him like he was crushing you and there was nothing to stop the numbing feeling. He sympathized, maybe more than he liked to admit, it’s what he chose to live with over the past year. It started the moment he met you if he was truly being honest.

He knew there was nothing left for him, no matter how much his heart clenched at the sound of your cries. He couldn’t be the one who was always taking care of you, loving you, when you didn’t feel what he felt. It was splitting him open, and you just kept taking pieces of him away — parts of him you would hold forever.

He let you cling onto him one more time, begging for him not to leave you. He let you believe he wouldn’t as he calmed you back in a false sense of security. Until you were asleep in his soft sheets later that night, leaving you lonely in the home you’d been sharing.

With only half of his belongings with him, he pulled up to the project he had just completed. Even now, with not a single hope you would ever see it after he just abandoned you, there was still a light hope you’d be able to at least see it one day. If Steve was ever strong enough to face his heartbreak again.

tagging: @tonystankschild | @andromedasstarship | @tinylumpiaa | @brattycherubwrites | @bval-1 | @kayteewritessteve |

[nashibirne]

PICK UP

Trucker!Sy is back! I had so much fun writing him, so I decided to write a follow-up to Truck Stop. In this one Sy initiates a little role play. I hope you like it just as much as part 1. If so, please leave me a reblog, comment or like 💜. Thanks!

Pairing: Syverson x reader/y/n/you (f)

Word count: 2.3 k

Summary: Sy wants to pick up a little bird at a bar. This is a follow-up to Truck Stop but you can read it without knowing part 1.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, PWP, smut, sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, roleplay, cream pie

Unbeta'ed. English isn't my first language. Mistakes ahead and they're all mine.

Credits: I don't own Captain Syverson

Find my other fics on my masterlist!

Taglist:

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84

Off we go....

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Imagine, you liked the little role play, your girlfriend surprised you with so much, you want to return the favor. You didn't tell her what you've planned, you've just told her to show up at that bar and to play along....

I am nervous, I mean like really nervous, which is silly, because it's my girlfriend I'm going to meet in a few minutes. But then again, tonight she's not my girlfriend. She's going to be a random stranger, sitting at the bar, catching my eye and I'll try to pick her up.

I enjoyed her surprise the other day so much, our little the-trucker-and-the-hitch-hiker-role play, I want to return the favor and so I told her to come to the "Midnight Cowboy" at 8 o'clock and wait there for me at the bar. And that's why I sit here in a dark corner booth with a good view at the entrance and the barstools, glancing nervously at my watch again and again. I'm really not sure if this is going to be a success. I've never been the type for one-night-stands or flings. I've always been in long-time-relationships, with my first love at high school, with two women in my twenties, with my ex-wife and now with y/n. All my relationships started the classical way. You meet through friends or through your job or at a party, you start dating, you fall in love and get serious.

Never before have I tried to hook up with a woman just for one night at a bar, guess I'm an old-fashioned boomer but well...that's me. The door opens once again and I raise my head hoping it's her but it's just a middle-aged couple with matching outfits and a tiny dog on a leash. Oh, wait, there she is, y/n follows right behind them. She looks so pretty, my heart skips a beat. It's still hard to believe that a woman like her wants to be with an ordinary trucker like me. She's dressed up, wearing a pretty summer dress that's sexy in an innocent way. It's not showing much skin but I know what a great body hides underneath, I know the curves that are wrapped up in the light blue fabric with the floral print by heart and that's why it's so promising and hot to me.

She takes a quick look around before taking a seat at the bar. I duck my head and hide myself from her eyes. I don't want her to see me, not yet. She smiles at the bartender and makes her order. It's cute how she's sitting there, fumbling with the colorful bangles on her wrist that match her outfit, glancing at her watch. She's nervous too and to be honest that's a big relief.

The guy at the other end of the bar keeps looking at her and he's not very subtle. Actually it's more ogling than looking and I feel the jealousy rise in my guts. She's my woman and I should be the one undressing her with his eyes. Well, to be honest I am. I just can't keep my eyes off of her, her gorgeous body and her lovely face. The bartender places a cocktail in front of her, it's a Tequila Sunrise, and she takes a sip, before checking the time again.

Okay, it's time for my entrance, to let the games begin. I take my beer and leave my comfortable booth to sit down at the bar. I choose a stool diagonally across from my sweet little bird to make sure it's easy to have eye contact. When she sees me she presses her lips together to suppress a grin. She gives me a quick, curious glance before she lowers her eyes on her drink. I have a swig of beer and keep looking at her to get back her attention. If I wasn't her boyfriend I probably would freak her out by staring at her like a psycho but I don't know what else to do. Luckily she knows I'm not some kind of creep and so she gives me a look and a delicate smile eventually. I return the smile, nodding at her and I raise my trucker cap a little to greet her.

She giggles and looks away, pretending a shyness that's not typical for her but very fitting for our little role play. While she fakes innocence I try to strike her as a man who knows what he's doing and who knows the rules of this game. We keep on exchanging glances and smiles but I have to make a move eventually and so I do what I consider to be smooth and I beckon the bartender to come over.

"Another beer for me please and another Tequila Sunrise for the pretty lady over there."

"Sure."

He gives me a nod and brings me a new bottle of beer just seconds later before mixing her cocktail. He places it in front of y/n, talking to her and they look in my direction at the same time. He goes back to polishing glasses and she flashes me a bright smile, mouthing 'thank you' over the country music that's a little too loud for my taste. I mouth a 'welcome' back and raise my bottle to her. She takes a sip of her drink with a sexy smirk but averts her eyes again.

Time for the next move. I get up and walk over to her with big confident strides and a bit of a swagger. I know women like the way I walk and move and y/n is no exception. 

"Mind if I join you?" I smile at her with what's supposed to be a flirtatious wink. She looks me up and down skeptically.

"Why?"

"Umm…" I'm not prepared for this question and I don't know a single pick-up line that wouldn't be an absolute cliche or totally  sexist, so I decide to stay close to the truth. "You just caught my eye. You're not only pretty but you seem to be an interesting person. So…" God, I suck at this. Please don't make it too hard for me, little bird.

"You can tell I'm an interesting person just by looking at me for ten minutes straight?" She gives me a teasing smile and I can't help but laugh.

"Okay, that sounds strange, I know. Let me try again, okay?"

"Okay."

"I saw you sitting here and you caught my eye. You're beautiful on the outside and I just hope on the inside you're beautiful too and hopefully an interesting person...so... I'd just like to get to know you by chatting a little." I shrug and give her a sheepish smile because I feel like an idiot.

"Well, honestly, that's a great answer. Much better than the usual pick up crap. So, yes, please..." She pats on the seat beside her and I sit and turn to her.

"Thanks. I'm Tom, by the way. But everyone calls me Sy."

"I'm y/n. Nice to meet you...Sy. Sy is short for?"

"Syverson. My last name."

"I see. Sy. I like the sound of it. Feels good on my tongue." She smiles again and I'm at a loss for words for a moment. Cheeky little bird. Time for a bold move. "I may have more things to offer that feel good on your tongue", I grin with a smirk. 

"Oh, really?" She raises an eyebrow. "Such as?" 

"You'll find out...eventually...maybe." I wink at her and raise my bottle. "Cheers." 

"Cheers, Sy." She takes a big sip from her Tequila Sunrise and I look her deep in the eyes. "So what are you doing at this bar, all alone, y/n? Or are you waiting for someone?"

"No. I'm not. I'm here on my own. Actually I was so lonely at home, bored and unsatisfied so I decided to get out and about a bit."

"And you're lucky you found me. I'm known for keeping women entertained and satisfied." I may be overacting a little but I hope my little bird plays along. "Women? More than one at the same time?" She smiles at me innocently. 

"One after another of course." 

"Lucky me, I'm first in line tonight."

"Right." I laugh and she joins in, patting my thigh playfully. "You're a funny guy, Sy. So what do you do besides satisfying women? For a living I mean."

"I'm a trucker."

"Oh, that's great. Do you have your own truck?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Cool. I like big machines. Strong engines, roaring loud but running steady with a lot of power. Hard to handle but a smooth ride…"

"I bet you do." I give her one of these smirks she finds so sexy and she grins before she takes the cherry from her drink to take it in her mouth. The whole cherry, complete with fruit and stem. She chews, swallows and spits out the stone, placing it on her napkin carefully, but where's the stem, I wonder. Fascinated, I watch her tongue move around in her mouth for several seconds and then she opens her pretty lips and sticks out her tongue, presenting to me the cherry stem that now is knotted. She takes it and places it right in front of me. I gulp and look her straight in the eyes. "Did you just knot the stem with your tongue?" 

"Yeah. I'm good with my tongue." She holds my gaze and licks her lips and I feel my dick twitch in my jeans. Jesus. My girlfriend is Audrey Horne and I feel like Dale Cooper all of the sudden. Fascinated, aroused and confused by her. "You mean you know more tricks than this one?" She leans in to whisper in my ear. "Many more." When I turn my head her face is just inches away from mine and I stare at her mouth, leaning in. She does the same and as soon as our lips meet we share a hungry, passionate kiss.

It takes us ten minutes to pay, leave and get to my flat that's just around the corner. As soon as the doors of the elevator close behind us y/n literally jumps me. I grab her by her ass and press her body against the wall, kissing her feverishly while she rubs her pussy over my hard-on.

When we reach my floor I carry her to my apartment, we're still making out and so I keep on stumbling, crashing into the walls of the hall several times. I manage to open the door, while y/n is licking my earlobe and kissing and sucking on my neck which makes me moan.

I put her down and drive her towards the wall until her back is pressed against the rough surface. We keep on kissing with animalistic passion and hunger and I grab her wrists and pin her hands above her head, parting her legs with my thigh at the same time. She immediately starts riding it. I use my other hand to caress her tits and our moans get louder.

I let go of her hands and sink down on my knees. I hitch up her skirt and press a hot kiss on her vulva just to pull down her panties then ever so slowly. I grab her leg and place it on my shoulder before I start to eat her pussy. God, I love this...to taste her juices, to smell her arousal, to hear her soft moans and sighs. 

"God, Sy…" Her voice is thick with lust and I can tell she's close already. I go on, keep on licking and sucking, I give her pleasure with my mouth, my lips, my tongue and I know she loves the way my beard scratches her sensitive skin. I work my magic on her clit and she cums soon with a long lustful moan, whispering my name while her fingers run over my scalp. I get up and she pulls me close for another kiss, she loves tasting herself on my tongue. She tugs on the hem of my shirt and I strip it off and throw it away. Her hands run over my hairy chest and when she pinches my hard nipples I let out a feral growl. "Babe...I need you. I want you." I pant out of breath.

"Fuck me, Sy." 

I open my fly in a hurry and get my dick out. It's so hard it almost hurts and I just want to stuff her sweet little pussy with my fat cock. My jeans drop to the floor and I grab her by her waist to lift her up. She wraps her legs around my hips and I place my hands on her ass, squeezing her cheeks. I move her in the right position to enter her and make her sink onto my dick. I glide inside of her and immediately start to thrust. I fuck her fast, I fuck her hard, I fuck her deep and we both love it. I groan and grunt like an animal. My brain's stopped working, it's just basic instinct and lust now and I get closer to the edge with every raw thrust.

Her little shrieks and the way she moans tell me I hit exactly the right spot and the fact that she's about to cum again makes me even hornier, driving my arousal to new heights. I get higher and higher and when she calls my name from the top of her second climax, scratching my back, her whole body shivering, I explode inside of her. I orgasm with a loud groan and keep on thrusting when I cum, savouring every single second of this hot play's grand finale. I pull my cock out and take a step back, still out of breath. I look at her and she's a mess, her clothes crumpled, my cum running down her thighs. I cup her face and kiss her tenderly. "I've ruined your pretty dress."

"Forget the stupid dress, baby. You've made my day." 

She kisses me back and it's the beginning of a long night full of love making - of two people who know each other well and love each other much, having sex that is even better than the spectacular fuck of these two, who pretended to be strangers. And I can tell you, she showed me all of her tricks that night.

[hermannsthumb]

I have a fun prompt I've been thinking about I hope you have time for one day! When Newt and Hermann meet actually things go really really well and they even get together. It's just they bicker so much and have huge science-based arguments that everyone assumed they must have hated each other on sight.

sure thing! i had fun with this one

----

"So," Newt says. "I was talking to Tendo today."

Across the mess table, Hermann hums in feigned interest. Newt knows it's feigned 'cause Hermann doesn't stop either thing he's doing: using his left hand to wind noodles around a fork, and using his right hand to scribble away a series of lengthy equations on the back of a paper napkin. His full attention has been hopping between both for about ten minutes now—no room for Newt to slip in there. He's testing his limits enough as it. Half of the last equation ended up scratched into the tabletop, and the last time he lifted his fork to his mouth, it was empty. And then he swallowed anyway. Newt kinda loves the guy.

"Yeah," Newt says, deciding to continue like Hermann responded the way he was actually supposed to respond, which would've been something along the lines of what an utterly fascinating story, Newton, do tell me more. I love hearing you talk, Newton. How marvelously smart you are, Newton, and how melodic and breathtaking your voice is. Now watch me bite down on an empty fork again. "Kinda funny. He was asking how we met."

Hermann finally looks up at Newt suspiciously over the rims of his glasses, which are slipping slowly down his nose. He stills them with the tip of his index finger before they land in his dinner. "Why?"

"I don't know, man," Newt says. "He just was. It was like, small talk, you wouldn't get it. He dropped by the lab when you were out this morning to let me know that there was extra space if we wanted it. Like, lab space." Hermann resumes scratching an equation into the table absently. Newt rolls his eyes. "As in, we could have separate labs if we wanted now."

Hermann knits his eyebrows together. "Separate laboratories?"

When Newt and Hermann first started at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the k-scientist team was pre-existing and significantly bigger, and anyone who joined on later—like, you know, them—basically got shoved in wherever they fit. For Newt and Hermann, that happened to be Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1 (the only basement level), along with a former marine biologist who was killed on a research excursion a month later when a kaiju made unexpected landfall, like, right on top of their chosen shelter. Bad luck. Anyway, Newt's known about the existence of other Hong Kong Shatterdome lab spaces in the vague and absent sort of way that you would an urban legend, but (similarly so) he never thought he and Hermann would actually ever lay eyes on one. And then Tendo stopped by to dangle it in front of Newt on a stick.

"The other labs were being used as storage for ages after everyone else—" Newt searches for a word tasteful enough to encapsulate got stomped by a kaiju and wised up and decided to live out what are probably our last few days before the world ends with their families instead of alone in a military bunker. "—left. Anyway, Tendo told me they've been going through shit like crazy this month, I think to see if they can salvage any old tech, and that the other labs are basically totally emptied out now. We just have to ask and they're ours."

Hermann sets down both his pen and fork, twisting his mouth contemplatively. He finally loses the battle against gravity with his glasses, and they miss his plate by an inch, swinging back on their chain and bouncing harmlessly against his chest instead. Newt briefly wonders if getting a chain for his own glasses would save them from their frequent fatal falls into kaiju organ cavities and buckets of non-neutralized kaiju blood, but decides not even the money he'd save on replacement pairs would make a fashion faux pas like that worth it. "You know I don't much fancy the basement," Hermann says.

"Your joints," Newt agrees. The damp of the basement sets Hermann's joint pain off frequently, something Hermann talks about just as frequently. Newt's not really a fan of the basement either, though for different reasons—he would kill to get some windows and natural, non-fluorescent light in there. Sun lamps can only do so much. He's pretty sure he'd fucking glow if he stepped outside right now. Also, it's cold down here.

"And it might be nice to be closer to LOCCENT, in case of an emergency," Hermann continues. "And closer to—oh, hang on. What has this got to do with us?"

"Huh?"

"How we met," Hermann says. "You said, that Tendo asked—"

"Oh," Newt says. It's his turn to play coy. He stirs his chopsticks through his own dinner, accidentally flicking a piece of tofu to the table. It lands on top of Hermann's etched equations. Hermann scowls, because that's how their routine goes: Newt gets Hermann's stuff dirty, and Hermann gets mad. "Well. It was just that Tendo was like you can finally be out of each other's hair, how the hell did you guys get stuck together anyway when you obviously can't stand each other, that kind of stuff."

"Ah," Hermann says.

"And I said that it was because we knew each other before," Newt says, "and that we transferred here together. And that's when he asked."

"And what did you say?" Hermann says.

"That we used to correspond professionally," Newt says, "and met at a conference way back in 2017." He adds, with a grin, "Also professionally."

This was technically true. Newt and Hermann did write to each other, professionally, and they did meet at a conference, professionally, but what went down after a long and public shouting match in the events hall of a very nice hotel—in Hermann's room, five floors up in that very nice hotel—was not very professional. The events of the week that followed—spent, intermittently, between Hermann's hotel room, several coffee shops, a bench under a tree in Newt's favorite park, a rotation sushi restaurant, brushing knees shyly on the tram, and, finally, clasping hands on the staircase of Newt's apartment and gazing deeply into each other's eyes—weren't very professional, either, but Newt likes to think that they were very romantic. Rom-com level shit. Newt revealed none of this to Tendo, who referred to the 2017 conference as that Infamous Day for the rest of their conversation. "Well, it was professional," Hermann sniffs.

But he reaches across the table, and, very timidly, crosses his pinkie over top of Newt's. It's the most blatant form of PDA Hermann ever willingly engages Newt in. Newt thinks if he ever tried to touch two fingers at once in anywhere but the lab, or God forbid, hold his whole hand, Hermann's ears might start emitting steam like something out of a cartoon. "It might be nice," he says again.

Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1, is unique—Newt knows—in that Newt and Hermann's quarters are connected to it directly. None of the other labs have that luxury (and Newt has a feeling it's because Lab Space D wasn't actually intended as a lab space). He remembers being told that when they were shoved into it. Yeah, you have the darkest and tiniest lab space on base, but your rooms are right there! When Newt wants to go to Hermann's room, or if he's in Hermann's room and needs a sweatshirt or something from his own, he just has to step the three feet between their two doors. Moving labs could throw a wrench in that—they might be asked to move quarters, too, and might be shuttled to opposite sides of the Shatterdome, and though they could just bite the bullet and request couple's quarters already, it's nice to have their own spaces when they need it. That would never work. And, well, besides—the lab, their lab, feels like home to them at this point. Newt shrugs.

"On the other hand," Hermann says, and he taps Newt's pinkie lightly, "I quite like how things are. I can live with the damp, really."

"We can get a dehumidifier," Newt offers.

Hermann nods, and he gives Newt the barest hint of a smile.

Their monthly delivery of lab supplies—whatever they can afford with their shoestring budget, which, these days, mostly means chalk, rubber gloves, and nice instant ramen—comes three weeks later. Newt wouldn't exactly call the Shatterdome delivery guy a friend, seeing as he has yet to divulge his name to Newt (and also Newt's pretty sure he has a thing for Hermann, since he always seems to wait until Hermann is in the lab to stroll by with his package trolley and always calls him Dr. Gottlieb with big stupid heart eyes, oh, Dr. Gottlieb, that new sweater looks soooo nice on you!, so anyway, that makes him Newt's rival by default), but he, at least, recognizes and acknowledges Newt at this point. That's more than Newt can say for most people on the base. After his usual greeting to the two of them (hey, Newt, oh, hellllooo, Dr. Gottlieb, did you do something new with your hair?), he starts to unload their packages, also like usual.

"I was surprised to see that you guys are still down here," he tells Newt, not like usual. "Tendo mentioned something about you getting your own labs."

"He did?" Newt says, meaning to frown, but grinning instead. It's kind of fun to be the subject of gossip. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash to help with their supplies—the dehumidifier he requested should be in there, and it's fancy and definitely on the bigger side.

"Yeah," their delivery guy continues. He hands Newt a fuckin' massive brick of a package. Hermann's stupid chalk. The amount that Hermann tears through in a month really is astounding: Newt has a private theory that Hermann is an undercover space alien from a planet where chalk constitutes all of the primary food groups, and he secretly sneaks out here and eats it in the dead of night when Newt is asleep. "Anyway, sorry I'm late," the delivery guy says, as Newt imagines Hermann crunching on a piece of chalk like a carrot stick, "I went to all the other labs first."

"No worries, dude," Newt says. "Sorry for the confusion."

He lugs the package over to Hermann's desk, and drops it down on the only spot not over-cluttered with papers and books. Hermann complains about Newt's messiness a lot for a guy who is just as bad, if not worse. "Need any now?" Newt asks Hermann.

Hermann, scribbling away at his chalkboard, grunts. Newt decides that's a no.

"Hard at work, Dr. Gottlieb?" the delivery guy says, practically fluttering his eyelashes.

Another grunt. Newt snorts.

"I thought you guys would've moved right away," the delivery guy (obviously disappointed at Hermann's lack of attention) tells Newt. "Tendo mentioned you've been stuck together for a while, ever since some sort of dramatic confrontation at a conference ten years ago." he adds eagerly, "Did you really get thrown out? I don't know how you haven't killed each other yet."

"It's taken a lot of hard work," Newt says. Yeah, the whole being-ejected-from-the-conference-and-barred-from-all-future-ones-forever thing is technically true too, but everyone there was too stuffy and serious for Newt's fun vibes anyway, so he thinks it's their loss. The most important part of the scientific breakthrough process, Newt frequently thinks, was having someone there to challenge you and push back at you. Sometimes loudly. And in public. In the conference hall of a very expensive hotel, in front of all of your scientific peers, some hotel security guards, and a poor graduate student who made the mistake of asking you and your penpal-colleague for your joint opinion on something and got caught in the crosshairs. Besides—out of everyone at that stupid conference, Newt and Hermann were the only ones snapped up by the PPDC, so it's doubly their loss. "And, yeah, we got thrown out. Me and Hermann fight a lot, but we always make up eventually. It's no big deal. It's, like, our thing."

"Make up?"

Newt waggles his eyebrows and doesn't elaborate. The making up part is the best part of arguing with Hermann, honestly, but he's not about to go giving private details about stuff like that to his rival.

By the time Hermann finally descends his ladder, three hours have passed, and Newt is frowning over an email he's just gotten from Shatterdome HR. Hermann will probably see it in a second when he checks his own email—it was sent to both of them, after all—but Newt waves him over to his desk anyway. "Look," he says.

He draws out the spare chair he keeps by his desk (for Hermann), and Hermann drops into it gratefully, propping his cane up against the arm. Then Hermann pushes his glasses up onto his nose and scans the email with a frown of his own. Newt reads it aloud for him anyway. "'Subject: Quarters Reassignment,'" he says. "Dear Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb: It has recently come to our attention that you will be transferring to Laboratories A&B. Should you wish to transfer quarters as well, you will find the necessary paperwork..."

"By Jove," Hermann groans, and pulls his glasses off again, smudging a bit of chalk on his cheek, "can't they just leave us alone?"

Newt laughs. "I'll tell them we're not interested. Wait, listen to this bit at the end: Congratulations—this must be a relief! Guess they were getting your complaint forms after all, Hermann." Both Newt and Hermann had long-since assumed that any and all official complaint forms stamped with a k-sci lab return address are filed right into the garbage. It's never deterred Hermann from sending them in, though.

"Hmph," Hermann says.

Newt carefully rolls his shirtcuff back down to his wrist and uses it to rub off Hermann's chalk smudge. When it's gone, or at least, mostly gone, he brushes his fingers back through Hermann's short hair. Hermann's eyelids flutter shut, and as he leans into Newt's touch, his creased forehead smooths just a little. "Mm. You're lovely," he murmurs. "We really ought to tell them we're married. It's gone on long enough."

"I guess," Newt says. "But it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

a discussion of jabberwock with team interaction hcs + deeper nash analysis

for anon who asked "Can we get some headcanons for jabberwock members or like headcanons when they're together? (its okay if it was jason or nash only)" and made me realise it's about time i get these guys' personalities down

note before we start: cause i didn't know their names until i wrote this

zack is the bald one, allen is the one with a headband, nick is the other white guy apart from nash.

team hcs

nick gets bullied for being under 6ft, but not by jason

nah good old jason teases all of them for being short fucks, emphasising that they’re all 5ft tall in comparison to him

he 100% lifts things out of the others' reach and then laughs for ages after when they try get them

unfortunately though, they’re all used to this and now just ignore him. either that or nash stares at him so intensely jason actually repents and hands it back

zack’s another one with a very good glare, but he’s used it too often on jason and it’s since stopped working.

also jason gives me ‘straightens his back as much as possible when getting measured so he’ll measure in as 7ft’ vibes

oh and he thinks he could wrestle a gator and win. i’ve got no explanation for that except for the fact you can't tell me it's ooc.

allen’s very protective over his white headband - it’s his lucky item - but he’d never let anyone know that

he’s confident in his abilities like the rest of them, but there’s nothing wrong with wearing a headband just in case

(nash knows anyway)

they watch nba matches together and do not shut up once throughout the entire match - lots of jeering, booing each other if someone criticises a player they like, lots of “i could do that”, lots of “get your fucking hand out of my popcorn do you want me to punch you in the face” etc

they used to all live together, but nash has since moved out. he was sick and tired of trying to make people do chores, as the only one who kept their room clean.

yeah the others’ house looks like a heap of trash but also very much “where’s my toothbrush?” “it’s in the third coke can by the orange peel behind the sink” *silence* “yeah thanks” *a minute later* “who the fuck has been using my toothbrush”

they’re all “bro your dribbling sucks why are you on this team loser” to one another, but also very protective (aka arrogant for one another) if anyone else Dared to criticise one of their teammates

then again, what kind of person would criticise jabberwock

half of the time he spends with jabberwock, nash is a Single Mother TM trying to get a bunch of man children to behave; the other half of the time, he's just as bad as the rest of them

i talk about this a lot but i get the feeling nash is an exceptionally hard worker, but at least he gets to let his hair down around his teammates sometimes

nash is also the only person jason thought was truly ‘strong’ at first sight

and nash is also the only person who can beat jason in a fight, and also the only person who can get nash to train, and also the only person who can.. [etc. you see my point].

(n.b jason calls himself the ‘almighty me’, nash says that ‘even god can’t beat me’. point made.)

you know how jason silver’s motto is “I have never thought”

imagine him proudly stating that, before zack adds with a straight face, “yeah cause nash does it for you.”

in short, the team would fall apart without nash.

although the team’s communication and coordination is very fine tuned, nash is the guy who keeps everything in order off the court to prevent what is essentially a team of aces ('main characters', if you will) from falling apart

they hang out together a lot, but do all have other friend groups that do not overlap

team bbqs

unofficial rule not to criticise anchovies on pizza because the one time nick did, nash snapped

however pineapple on pizza is fair game, even though zack quite likes it

more than once, jason has brought a girl home and nick has stolen her attention away with effortless trick shots, funky ball manoeuvring etc

more than once nick has had to trek to nash’s place (with a black eye) at midnight to have somewhere to sleep

do you see a correlation?

oh and everyone in the team has been walked in on by nash when they were naked with some girl

nash has absolutely no shame

he apologises to the girl with a charming albeit insincere tone, and then remains standing in front of the bed/couch until his teammate does what he expected of them

usually it involves not having come to practice

allen learnt a few (emphasis on ‘few’) words of japanese before they travelled to japan and was disappointed that he never got to use them

that said, one of those words was hentai

and now a quick analysis of some panels

a) so there's at least one player who wasn't underestimating vorpal swords. if i were to overanalyse, i'd add that nick's wearing a hoodie (possibly athletic wear) whilst nash has a 'fancy' shirt on; perhaps nick wasn't expecting them to be going to host clubs instead of chilling/training?

b) i know what you're thinking: "how can you say nash is a hard worker when he didn't want to practice for the match". i reckon he was still pretty high on the complete and utter success of their previous match, that plus being around girls, encouraged him to have a more 'jason-y' personality. (either that or fujimaki didn't want to add too much depth/realism into nash's character bc he's unequivocally the villain, right? and obviously this helps with the plot and the jabberwock bad geniuses gom good geniuses rhetoric.)

earlier, i mentioned how nash is the only one that could keep the team together, and is thus the undeniable head of the team; here's a clear example. you can see both jason and zack have no interest in continuing - if anything, there's disgust in their faces, kinda just saying "we spat on all of japan, now we can go home". whereas nash won't allow for the slightest of possibilities that there might exist a team stronger than them, and hence agrees to the match. the key thing here is that the others do as he says without too much fuss.

another thing to note is nash's reference to harakiri. now what can we make of that, alongside his proficiency in japanese, in relation to his character? the way i see it, he's either a weeb or possibly has some japanese lineage. (you could spin that even further and say his mother was japanese, taught him the language, then abandoned him, and hence his almost excessive hatred/mockery of the japanese people.) (is that why he wanted to do another match in japan..?)

just a quick point. "thanks to him" - jason isn't so superior as to think that he could win this match effortlessly without nash's support. links pretty nicely with my earlier idea about how nash is the only person jason has always considered 100% strong.

yet another point about how nash is the strongest of the team in pretty much every way you can think of. you know how scary/powerful you have to be to shut jason up (after he's getting real pissed from being prevented from scoring?)

i personally think this is a pretty important panel, though i've never seen anyone mention it before. did nash grow up training in a professional basketball training situation, as opposed to growing up playing streetball like i suspect the others did? well, to answer that question, imma bring in another panel.

here we see visible rage on nick, zack and jason's faces - they can't accept their loss, which is fair enough. but i'd argue that nash's face seems to depict sadness more than it does anger like to rest of them, look at how downturned his mouth is - and he's looking away from the 'camera', as if hiding his shame.

when you combine that with what he says here, i have no doubt that this is someone who has experienced some proper lows in basketball - as would be expected from someone who's played 'properly'. he's possibly not even a prodigy like the rest of them - compare jason's motto with his. "i have never thought" versus "do not suppose opportunity will knock twice at your door".

there's various lines of thinking you could design with this - he might have been trained by alex (hence, himuro having heard of jabberwock, though he should have known of a team as popular of jabberwock regardless), he might have grown up with professional basketballer parents etc. but here's my own little theory:

nash received serious basketball training from early on - maybe because his parents were living vicariously through him, or maybe he always loved the sport and wanted to be no1. so there he was training away, but, as he grew older, it started getting all a bit too much.

he didn't want to dedicate his entire life to basketball. after all, his hobby is water sports and his speciality is boxing; that's a lot of different things to be keeping up with, whereas the pipeline for promising athletes demands people focus solely on basketball. as a result, nash become bitter: stopped attending practice regularly, got in trouble for trash talk of increasing severity, etc.

result was he was kicked out of the program.

only when he was no longer playing basketball again, did he realise how much he missed it. and hence he got into streetball, where he was tremendously successful as someone with so much training, 'elite skills', and the overly confident attitude to boot.

then, one fateful day, he met jason and the rest is history.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Private Show (Choi Jongho) Rated

Pairing: Choi Jongho × Exotic Dancer! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Slight Fluff, Idol AU.

Summary: Knowing the maknae has been lusting for a certain expensive stripper, Yunho arranges a private dance just for him that includes a little bonus gift.

Word Count: 4.4K+

Warnings: Strip clubs, exhibitionism, voyeurism, pole dancing, masturbation, breast play, lap dance, spanking unprotected sex (always use protection), cum facial.

❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖

Paying no mind to the lovely lady that was currently running her fingers through his hair, Jongho's eyes kept wandering around the bright, neon lighted room, shifting around in his seat at times so that it would be easier to see the stage in front of him. The girl, feeling a bit disappointed to be slighted as such, turned her attention over to his companion, who was more than eager to accept her little dance on his lap. His large hands fought hard to keep them at his sides, knowing fully well the rules of not touching the exotic dancers. But there was certainly no rule about the girls touching the clients and some, like the bubbly and energetic one currently grinding on Yunho's lap, were more than happy to get a little handsy with them. He couldn't help the excited giggle as he tilted his head so she could glide her tongue down the side of his neck, loving every second of the attention he was getting. Noticing that his younger friend was hardly enjoying himself, Yunho sighed before taking out a couple bills from his pocket and holding it out for the young seductress. Wanting to leave him with one last souvenir, the stripper pulled one of the straps of her glittery bra down, allowing the male idol to get a glimpse of her nipple. Biting his lip, Yunho discreetly placed the bundle of cash inside her garment, sighing blissfully as he watched her saunter off to go entertain another man.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself." He pointed out as he looked at Jongho with a curious gaze.

"Maybe because I'm just not into these types of things..?" Jongho shrugged as he reached for the glass that was on the table in front of him.

"Bet you wouldn't be saying that if Y/N was the one performing."

Yunho smirked when Jongho sipped on his drink too harshly, lightly letting out a cough after choking on the alcoholic liquid.

"What?"

Yunho rolled his eyes at his friend.

"Oh come on dude, you practically drool and get hard everytime she's on stage."

Jongho lowered himself in his seat, gaze wandering uncomfortably across the glittery floor underneath him. Chuckling in an endearing tone, Yunho patted Jongho's back affectionately.

"Awww. Does the Ateez' baby have a little crush on the hot stripper?" He teased him.

"What?! N-no..." Jongho furrowed his eyebrows, moving away from Yunho as far as he was able to in their seating booth.

"I mean, I honestly don't blame you. There's a reason she's the most sought after and expensive dancer in this place."

Catching sight of one of the bouncers heading their way, Yunho inwardly smiled to himself as the plan he had devised was about to come into action, the main highlight of why he had dragged Jongho down to the club with him, albeit with very little resistance from the younger male.

"Excuse me sir? Miss Y/N is ready to receive you in the private room."

Widening his eyes at the bouncer's announcement, Jongho whipped his head over at Yunho, who had the biggest and somewhat unnerving grin plastered on his face, almost as if he was taunting the maknae. Jongho especially felt somewhat slighted when his Hyung dared to produce his infamous black card out of his pocket, waving it around in front of the other's unamused face.

"Of fucking course you'd be able to afford a private dance with her." Jongho rolled his eyes, trying to seem as though it didn't bother him that Yunho had actually gone out of his way to book a personal session with the most desired woman in the establishment.

"Black card privilege my friend." Yunho giggled, putting his card safely back in his wallet after making sure to flex it.

"Oh suck it." Jongho grumbled, no longer to hide his annoyance at not being capable of affording exclusive time with a sexy woman who could charge 6 digits an hour solely because she was that gorgeous and lavish to look at.

Slumping an arm over his malcontent friend, Yunho leaned in to finally speak out the crucial part in his devious plan.

"Jongho, I booked the private dance for you kiddo."

With mind unable to believe Yunho's words, Jongho looked at the older male in confusion and almost as if he was in a daze. Chuckling, Yunho cupped his younger member's face and closed his agape lips.

"Don't drool just yet, you haven't even seen her."

Slipping himself out of his seat, Yunho extended his hand out towards Jongho, helping him up before proceeding to lead him out of the main hall and up the stairs. Jongho felt the pounding of his heart resonating in his ears, mouth slightly feeling dry the closer they approached the door of the private room. Gulping as he realized just behind those 2 doors he'd be faced with the very personification of his lustful desires, Jongho's hand slightly trembled as he reached for the doorknob. Snorting softly at the younger member's hesitation, Yunho leaned in and opened the door for him.

"Trust me Jongho, Y/N is actually very nice and will make sure you're comfortable at all times." Yunho assured him whilst simultaneously pushing him inside.

"How the hell do you know that?" Although Jongho's inquiry was more as a mental question towards himself, he was not ready for Yunho's answer.

"It's not the first time I've spent money for a one on one session with her-"

"Uh what?!"

Without getting any further explanation, Jongho watched as Yunho waved him a goodbye and closed the door, the light beeping sound letting him know that it was secured with a lock. Turning around, Jongho looked around and admired the soft pink aesthetic the room had been decorated with. It had a somewhat innocent and angelic vibe to it, which he didn't particularly dislike. In fact, he thought it was rather cute as in his mind he was already picturing a deep red lighting and a bunch of chains rattling across the walls. It was a pleasant contrast.

"I'm glad you seem to like the decor, I was here to make sure every detail would be to your liking."

Whipping his head towards the voice that startled him with their presence, Jongho's breath was caught when he saw none other than Y/N leaning against one of the walls, lips curled up in that mesmerizing smile of hers that never failed to melt him. With slow steps, she approached him, a completely tactic and intentional move so he'd be able to check her out from head to toe, and boy did he make use of it. He licked his lips as he took in her off white costume, consisting of a pearl beaded and lace bra that made sure to push up her soft looking breasts in the most alluring way, matching lace panties that had pearl studded clasps at the hip sides, no doubt intended for fast and hassle free removal. Her legs were accentuated by thigh high white stockings and the criminally high platform heels that helped her figure look elongated and more graceful. Her abdomen was decorated with a diamond belly chain that was fitted around her waist, a tiny pink butterfly pendant dangling in the middle, matching the pendant on the diamond choker that adorned her captivating neck. She had gone a lot more softer than she usually other for on her makeup, blush pink and soft coral main the focal points on the apples of her cheeks and lips, barely any color on her eyes save for the winged eyeliner that helped make her eyes look more enigmatic. Several parts of her body had been brushed with sparkling highlighter, mainly focusing on her shoulders, cheekbones, collarbone and the sides of her arms and thighs. Her hair was even styled differently, soft curled ends piled up into two half ponytails, the rest of her hair let down in similarly styled waves except for the long parted bangs that helped frame her face into having a more cutesy and angelic aura.

"Of course...." Her silky voice brought him out of his trance, making him focus his attention on her words.

"I did have a little help. Your friend told me a few things you seemed to favor." Her soft and semi mischievous giggle made him feel slightly abashed with himself.

Coming up close to him, Y/N took hold of his face, slightly squishing them in an affectionate manner.

"Don't be shy baby. Just sit back, relax and enjoy the show. Leave everything to me."

A soft gasp escaped Jongho's mouth when she playfully pushed him to sit on the cushioned seat behind him, nearly falling off but managing to catch himself before that happened. Strutting over to the pole in the middle of the room, Y/N looked at him and sent him a heart fluttering wink.

As if on cue, the lights dimmed just a bit as a slow and sensual song started to play. Whipping her hair around, Y/N's arm outstretched itself to take a firm hold of the pole. Kicking one leg off the floor and using it as momentum, it stayed outstretched while her other leg bent around the pole as well, helping her to spin around expertly the pole. No matter how many times he'd see her do it, Jongho could never stop himself from whispering a soft 'wow' at how effortlessly and natural she made it seem when he knew very well it took a lot of strength to execute such a move.

Spinning around a few turns, she carefully planted her feet back on the ground. Making sure she was facing Jongho, she kept one arm on the metal bar behind her as her body slowly slid down, back supported on the pole. She made sure to keep her legs parted, hips swaying side to side in rhythm with the music, her free hand caressing her bare inner thigh with a teasing motion. Once down on the floor, she stayed on her knees as she trailed her hands up her torso, cupping her breasts and giving them a hard squeeze. Jongho widened his eyes when he watched her turn her back to him, still on her knees as her hands reached up to unhook her bra. He watched with anticipation as she peeled the straps off her shoulders, taking it off one arm, then the other until it was tossed across the room.

"Oh fuck-" He groaned when he came face to face with her bare chest for the first time since he started going over to the club. Being such a popular dancer, Y/N only fully stripped in settings like this, private room to wealthy paying customers, a privilege he now got to experience thanks to Yunho.

Taking hold of her breasts once more, she kneaded them between her palms, letting out a hiss as she purposefully pinched them to make them as hard as possible. As if the sight couldn't get more erotic, she lifted her hips slightly off the ground and proceeded to roll her hips up into the air, giving Jongho the perfect imagery of how she would look if she was on top of him, dick filling her pussy. After playing with her perky tits enough for his amusement, she got up once more and went back to the pole. Holding onto it, one hand a few inches away from the other, she lifted her body up and kept her legs spread as she spun around in a straddle spin. She made sure to keep a cheeky smile towards the man watching her performance, noticing that his hand began to rub dangerously close to his very obvious hard on.

"Oh sweet boy, don't worry, I won't keep you waiting." She giggled inwardly to herself.

Expertly, she spun herself down, legs further spreading as the eased into a middle split onto the floor. Y/N didn't stay long in that position, quickly bringing her knees together as she used the pole to help her get up off the floor. Circling around to be in front of Jongho once more, she turned around once more and bent down to touch her ankles. Her hands then proceeded to glide up her legs until they reached up to her barely covered ass cheeks. Wanting to play with him more, she playfully gave her ass a rather mild slap and if she had been able to she would have seen the effect it had on Jongho, the idol lightly jolting up from his seat as one of his hands twitched against his lap. Hands coming up to her hips, her fingers quickly snapped open the pearl decorated clasps on her underwear, the garment dropping fast onto the floor just like Jongho's mouth.

"Oh my god.." Was all he could mutter as he gazed at Y/N's bare pussy that was tempting him to go over and eat it up. Y/N did not make it any easier as her fingers once again reached back to spread her folds apart, letting him see just how wet and glistening they were. Feeling aroused and wanting to play with herself a bit, Y/N turned around to face Jongho again as she sat back down with legs spread. Hand reaching in between her thighs, Y/N threw her head back as she rubbed 3 of her fingers against her throbbing clit, spilling out the hottest moans Jongho had ever heard. His eyes stayed trained on her core, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he saw how engorged and swollen her pussy lips were becoming thanks to her fast hand movements. As if the picture couldn't get any better-

"Jongho..." He tensed up when he heard her mutter his name. Opening her eyes, Y/N giggled at his shocked expression.

"Yes babyboy, you're not the only one who's getting turned on." She admitted, her rubbing becoming more intense and her sounds starting to get more high pitched. She could have made herself cum right then and there but she immediately halted her movements when she felt herself get too close to climaxing. She had already made up her mind that if she was going to cum, it was going to be on Jongho's cock, the very cock that she had been craving for quite some time. She vividly remembers the first time she saw him, sitting there in the crowd, eyes locked on her. Unlike the usual and common stares she'd get from other men that only displayed carnal lust and appetite, Jongho's eyes were different. They looked at her with pure adoration, staring at her as if she was an absolute goddess. He looked past her sexy body and dance and peered deep into the art and beauty of it, admiring each and every move she'd make onstage with fascination. Every time she'd perform and he was there, he always had an expression that seemed as if he had just discovered a priceless treasure or gem and Y/N loved the way he looked at her. He made her feel alive again, reminding her of why she loved performing, a love that had almost gone extinct after being viewed as nothing more than an object of entertainment and pleasure by many others. Seeing Jongho stare at her the way he did then, the way he was looking at her now, refueled that passion that had been buried deep inside her, being awakened once more by the man sitting in front of her.

Getting on all hands and knees, Y/N began crawling over to Jongho, the boy noticeably stiffening the closer she approached him. Sitting right in front of him, Y/N didn't hesitate to press her palms on his thick thighs, rubbing them in a gentle massage. She continued a pattern of stroking his thighs, thumbs occasionally pressing down hard. With a mischievous smirk, she hovered a hand above the tent in his pants before pressing it down to start palming him.

"Oh-Oh..." Jongho's breath hitched, thighs clenching at the feeling of her touching his intimate place, a picture he only got to live in his dreams up until that moment.

"You feel so big and thick even under these layers of clothes. Do you mind if I get a closer look?"

Noticing his hesitation and getting an inkling as to why it was, Y/N leaned forward, burying her face in between his legs as she placed her mouth right on top of his clothed bulge. Jongho outright moaned loudly at the contact, hips involuntarily bucking up each time she closed her mouth over his tent, only to open it back up before repeating the ministrations.

"Y/N please....." Jongho whined. Y/N giggled underneath him, the vibrations doing nothing but riling him up further. Giving in, Jongho began to unzip his pants, his hands sudden being pried off as Y/N took over and finished the task of undressing him. She pulled his pants and briefs down to pool around his ankles, face marveling at the sight of his erect cock right in front of her.

"Oh I was right. You are very thick and big."

Getting up, Y/N sat herself on top of Jongho's lap, the man underneath her gasping when she started rolling her hips against his, her wet folds coating his cock with her juices.

"Y/N are...are you sure this is ok?" He finally voiced out the biggest concern he had about all this.

Chuckling, Y/N wrapped her arms around Jongho's neck, leaning in close enough that her lips fanned over his own.

"Honey, it's perfectly fine. The only rules that apply inside these 4 walls are the ones that I set."

Taking hold of his hands, she placed them on her hips before continuing.

"And the number 1 rule is having you touch me as you please."

Jongho hesitantly ran his hands across her sides, still apprehensive about getting himself or her in trouble. Pouting slightly, Y/N began to grind her hips harder down onto his cock, gasping softly each time her clit felt stimulated by his shaft. That tiny action served to have him slide his hands down to cup her ass, squeezing harshly as he himself began bucking his hips upwards, matching the pace that she had set. He kept his eyes trained on the way her breasts bounced each time she moved fiercely on top of him. Releasing his grip on her ass, he placed them on top of her pillowy mounds, giving them tight squeezes that had Y/N shuddering when his thumbs brushed against her nipples, being extremely sensitive in them. After toying around with her sensitive nubs, making sure to flick them every so often, Jongho licked his lips before pressing his face against in between her tits. Opening his mouth, he latched his lips against one of her nipples, giving it harsh suckles, loud and sloppy noises being heard even over the music. Y/N closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his warm mouth on her boobs. Her fingers came up and tangled themselves on the back of his hair, palms unconsciously pressing him into her chest even further, back arching so that he would be able to take more of her soft flesh inside his mouth. Releasing the first nipple with a loud pop and a thin trail of saliva, Jongho knew it wouldn't be fair if her other nipple didn't get payed the same attention the other got. With a groan, his mouth once again enclosed over her nipple, practically devouring it into his warm and wet cavern.

Y/N's hip movements started to become more and more frantic. After having teased Jongho and herself so much before, she was beginning to feel much too hot and bothered, her pussy feeling empty and in desperate need to be filled with a fat and thick cock. Pulling Jongho's face off her chest, she suddenly got off his lap so she could move over towards the ottoman on the other side of the room. Getting on all fours, she presented her ass to Jongho once more, hand reaching in between to play with her reddened clit.

"Jongho please fuck me. Fuck this little hole of mine and use it as you want."

Not wanting to wait to see if it was a dream that he would wake up from or not, Jongho got up from his seat and began walking over to the exotic dancer. His clothes started to form a trail across the floor as he stripped out of every article of clothing he had on, the last garment dropped right as he came up behind her round and firm ass that was just begging to be slapped by one of his palms. Cupping the sides of her ass, Jongho rubbed the tip of his cock against her slickened lips, his precum mixing with hers, some of it even oozing down lightly on the floor. Any other time she would have appreciated how soft and gentle he was being, but right now that was the last thing she needed.

"Jongho don't tease me. Just drill that cock inside me and break me like one of those apples you break." She didn't even care that she accidentally made it known that she knew very well what he was capable of doing. Jongho on the other hand got a smug smile on his face after finding out that she had actually gone out of her way to do research on him.

Y/N had to press her hands against the top part of the couch to keep herself from holding forward after Jongho plunged his cock deep inside her. Not giving her dripping and warm walls time to prepare, Jongho began slamming his hips against her ass, his shaft being squeezed by her wet and clenching walls that made sure he wouldn't be going anywhere. Needy moans and cries of pleasure echoed in that room, most of them coming from the girl that was being impaled to the hilt by a thick cock repeatedly without mercy.

"Yes! Just like that!" She cried out, deep breaths spilling out as she pushed herself further back into Jongho's thrusts.

"You like being fucked like this?" He growled from behind, dropping one hand to slam hard against one of her cheeks that was rippling each time he pushed deep inside her core, the action making her walls contract painfully around Jongho's cock.

"I- yes! Fuck yes baby I do! I love being fucked as if I was nothing more than a glory hole." She shamelessly admitted.

Jongho once again brought his hand up and then dropped it down, giving her beautiful and supple ass a few repeated smacks, the loud cracking of his palm on her skin continuing to sound across the room until her flesh started to turn a pink-reddish hue. After getting his fill of making sure to slap her ass, Jongho cupped the sides of her soft cheeks, fingers digging harshly into her skin as he spread them out as much as they could, admiring the way his cock entered and re-entered her drenched hole.

"Fuck! You feel so good inside me baby, your going to make me cum."

Hearing those words made the male idol drive harder and more forceful thrusts into her body, using the power in his hips as his cock continued to stretch her tight hole. Y/N was losing her mind at how good the pleasure felt, she wouldn't have been suprised if her agape mouth was drooling saliva down her chin at the point. She focused on nothing else except relishing in how deep Jongho's cock was in her. She loved how rough he was being with her, and Jongho could also tell, her long drawn out screaming moans being a big clue that she was taking his hard thrusts very well. Too well. Swear began to mist both of their bodies, dripping down their foreheads and temples as his merciless pace continued. Y/N began to contract violently underneath him, her moans turning into full on wailing.

"Oh fuck! Jongho I'm gonna-"

She was caught off, lips only managing to spat out piercing whimpers of ecstasy as her juices seeped out and onto his length, warmly coating the entirety of his shaft. Y/N couldn't stop clenching around his cock, almost as if her body was purposefully trying to prolong her mind breaking orgasm. Feeling her spill all over him, Jongho's pace became more sloppy, less calculated, a clear indication that his own climax was not too far behind.

Knowing exactly where she wanted his cumshot, Y/N pulled away from Jongho's cock, quickly turning around and getting on her knees as her hand wrapped around his shaft and rapidly jerked him off, eyes looking up at him as she lowered her face even further so his tip would be right above her forehead.

"Oh shit!" Jongho spat out, head thrown back and eyes shut tightly, unable to hold back from cumming after realizing what Y/N had in store.

Within seconds Y/N felt his cum start to shoot out towards her face, tongue poking out to catch some of it. She loved how hot, thick and sticky it was. Her free hand came up to fondle his balls, proving to help in extending his high as much as possible as well making sure that more cum would be pumped out of him so that it could be splashed on Y/N's pretty face. The girl giggled as a second load shot out unexpectedly, drowning her face in cum as she swallowed what had been collected in her tongue. Jongho was panting almost feverishly when his high finally started to rescind, allowing him to calm his heartbeat that was pumping ferociously. Peering down, he let out a shocked exclaim as he saw the stripper's face drenched in his cum, a huge smile on her face that turned even brighter when she felt him get hard again in her hand. Making sure that his boner wouldn't go anywhere, Y/N leaned in and pressed a kiss to his tip, tongue poking out to dip into his slit.

"Your friend paid for 5 hours and we've only used up 2. What do you say we make his money worth while?"

❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters @rainteez02

[muselin]

See You Later - Part 1

Who: Beomgyu

Group: TXT

What: Beomgyu/f!reader, collegeAU, slow burn, eventual smut, college student!Gyu, model!Gyu

Word count: 2,238

A/N: this is for @bluekais ❤ Hope you enjoy! Sorry that it's taken so long! There will be a Part 2 coming but I got myself elbows-deep into Kinktober so might take a while as well 🎃

____________________________________

"Tch."

The dissatisfied noise leaving your lips had become habit by now. Just his presence annoyed you, but the fact that he had the nerve to show up late to class almost every time, carrying that stupid skateboard, made your blood boil a little bit. He never studied, never did the assignments, always showed up late and he was still somehow passing this class. This class that you had worked so hard to get into and had to keep working so hard to stay in. It didn't come naturally to you but it did to him and it made you green with envy.

"Ah, Beomgyu-ssi, how kind of you to join us," your professor quipped sarcastically as Beomgyu beamed a smile that was frustratingly charming and headed for the only empty space in the auditorium which, to your displeasure, happened to be next to you.

You didn't acknowledge each other as you continued scribbling furiously into your notebook while Beomgyu sat with his chin leaned on his hand. You noticed that he hadn't taken out anything to write with.

"Now I will hand out your assignments for the next lecture. Remember we have study week, so you will have one week to complete these. Please remain in your seats as you are now."

Your professor proceeded to hand out stacks of papers and you couldn't help noticing that he was handing only one stack for every two students. He was making his way down your row and dropped off an assignment right between you and Beomgyu.

"I can hold it for us," Beomgyu smiled pleasantly as he looked over to you, seemingly unaffected by your sour expression. As the two of you read the instructions for the music production assignment, Beomgyu would stop and mutter to himself every once in a while: "Hmm, I already have a bass guitar for this," "This would be very easy to add a snare to," "I just need vocals and someone to match the drum line to this".

"Alright, everyone ready?" The auditorium hummed with mumbled "yes"es.

"Good," your professor continued, "you will be doing the assignment in pairs, in the order that I've handed the assignments out to you".

You groaned inwardly, noticing yours and Beomgyu's names at the bottom right corner of the cover page.

"Class dismissed!"

You were unsure what to do. You'd have to spend quite a lot of time with Beomgyu to finish this but you didn't have his number and you didn't even know which dorm he was in. Before you could open your mouth to ask Beomgyu when you should meet up, he was getting up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"See you later, Y/N," his voice laced with his regional dialect reached you as an afterthought.

"Tch. Fuck you too, Choi," you muttered.

___________________

It had been four days since you last saw Beomgyu and you were getting nervous. You had started the assignment early and done as much as you could do. You hated to admit it but you really did need him for this. You had worked out a base melody but it was too bare and uninteresting and you knew from hearing him talk to himself that he knew a lot of elements which could add flare and points to the assignment. You hunched over your laptop, browsing the music library. Begrudgingly, at 10 p.m. on a Tuesday, you decided to email him through the university central email list.

### 22:01 ###  Hi Beomgyu, it's Y/N, your partner for the music production assignment. I've thrown some things together but we need to meet to do the rest. I realised I didn't have your number or your dorm address, let me know when we can meet up. ###

You waited for a while after pressing send, just in case he was on his emails right now. At midnight you gave up and went to sleep.

### 03:44 ### Hi! Sorry about that! Can you bring what you have over to mine at about noon tomorrow? Here's the postcode ###

You woke up to the reply from Beomgyu and nearly panicked that you would be late. He didn't live close by at all, the post code seemed to be for a swanky area of newly built apartments downtown, miles away from your suburban campus.

You showered and dressed as quickly as possible. You weren't dressing up for anyone. Jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt was all Beomgyu was getting from you. You grabbed your laptop and equipment and headed out the door.

________________

At 11:55, you knocked on Beomgyu's door. He lived on the 13th floor and on the elevator up to his apartment you hoped to whoever would listen that this wouldn't turn out to be as unlucky as the out-of-order sign on the second elevator.

The front door clicked and opened to reveal a somewhat sleepy Beomgyu, dressed in a tshirt and pyjama bottoms.

"Oh, Y/N, you're early," he said, then looked at his watch. You found this ironic, considering he never showed up to class on time.

"Well, not by much. Can I come in?"

"Sure," he said, opening the front door widely for you to walk in past him. "I'll make coffee," he yawned.

As you walked past him you couldn't help but note in your head that he smelled really good. You weren't sure if it was his cologne or laundry but it was the kind that settled pleasantly in your chest and made you want to breathe in deeper. You stopped that train of thought harshly as soon as you felt your mind drift that way. You were perfectly happy with feeling generally mildly annoyed with Beomgyu. It was your comfort zone, even if having to work with him was pushing it.

"So how come you don't live on camp-- Wow..."

Your jaw dropped as you walked into the apartment. It was nothing like the cramped dorm rooms you and your friends shared on campus. It was bright, spacious and well-decorated, with huge windows and a view that rivaled the best hotels in the business district.

"How the fuck are you affording this," the words tumbled out of you with little grace before you could stop them.

"Well, since you ask, I work a lot of side jobs," Beomgyu said nonchalantly as he poured water into the kettle in the open-plan kitchen.

"Really? What do you do?"

"Uhm...," he scratched his neck sheepishly, "at the moment I model."

"You? You model?"

"Yeah, why," he tilted his head at you, looking at you quizzically.

Those big brown eyes, the soft curves of his lips, his chiseled jawline... And his hair looked really soft too. Suddenly from thinking nothing of him you were imagining him as a model. You wondered what he modeled for. Could it be fashion brands? Lifestyle? Prints? Maybe even swimsuits? He always wore those baggy jeans and t-shirts, but maybe...

"Y/N?"

"Oh," you snapped back to him, realising you hadn't answered him. "Yeah I just... didn't know, that's all."

"Uhm, cool. Why don't you drop your stuff off in the room down the hall, the one on the left?"

You nodded and picked up your laptop bag and equipment, your feet sinking into the plush carpet as you padded down the hall. You nudged open the door to the room he'd pointed you to, jaw dropping again for the second time today as you walked in.

The room was a small makeshift studio, with mics, a sound control board and several guitars. Several notepads were strewn about along with a few used coffee mugs and muffin wrappers. It seemed to be the most lived-in space of Beomgyu's house so far and you were suddenly starting to understand why he never seemed to pay much attention to the classes. You dropped your bags off in the corner and sat down at his computer, looking at the various pieces of equipment connected to it.

"How do you like your coffee?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Beomgyu's pleasant voice reverberate in the room. You hadn't heard him come in after you. Covering up your startled reaction, you mumbled your preference and he returned shortly with two steaming mugs, setting them down on his desk.

"Um, so... For this assignment I've tried layering the melodies but it's very bare. I thought we could use it as a starting point and build on it," you said, trying to sound more businesslike.

"That's good, thanks. I actually don't have a lot of time so a head start would be good. I have an hour now but then I need to head out."

Your brow furrowed. An hour? It had taken you three days to put together what you had so far.

"Let's see what you've got," Beomgyu reached for the USB stick in your hands and plugged it into his computer. He downloaded the files and ran them.

An unobtrusive melody filled the small studio. He listened politely, head tilted to one side until it faded out.

"Um... Yeah, I don't play guitar so I wasn't sure what would sound good with that," you started, hands playing with the edges of your shirt nervously. You hated feeling incompetent, especially in front of Beomgyu.

"Yeah, no offence, but it does need a lot more than that," he said. "Let's see what I can do with that."

You sat in your chair and watched him plug one of his guitars into the amp behind you. He tuned it according to the scales in your melody and started to play along.

"Nana naaa," he hummed along quietly. "I don't know about that bar, what do you think," he asked you.

"It's not bad but I think it can go for longer," you replied. Beomgyu nodded, stopping the recording and starting again.

You watched him get lost in his own world as the notes coming from his guitar breathed life into your melody. You watched his fingers strum and pluck, watched his lips open and close in concentration, occasionally the lower one being worried by his teeth. You watched his long hair fall into his face. You simply watched Beomgyu in his zone, not noticing when he stopped playing.

"Y/N?"

Your eyes focused and met his deep brown ones, your lips tensing as you tried to seem attentive.

"Yeah? Yeah, that was good, let's add that in," you spoke quickly.

"Cool," Beomgyu then stood up and reached behind you to switch off the amp. You couldn't stop yourself from breathing in again when his chest and neck nearly brushed across your face. His warm hand dropped to your shoulder, giving you a casual pat.

"Why don't you sit at the computer and keep replaying the recoding while I write down the chords," he suggested.

"Okay, sure," you stood up in the cramped space and there was barely room for you two to switch places. Beomgyu's hands instinctively came up to your waist to steady you as he brushed past you. Your breath hitched but you said nothing as you sat down at his desk and started the recording.

Your combined melody filled the small room and you found yourself nodding along. You hated to admit it but you liked it much more with Beomgyu's additions. You played it several times while he wrote down the chords.

"Right, awesome," he drawled in his dialect after he was finished. "I have to get dressed and head out now, but if you want we can meet up again later today. I won't be done until quite late but I sleep late anyway."

"How late are we talking," you asked suspiciously.

"I would be done about 11, we could meet back here," Beomgyu offered.

You hesitated for a second. It was a lot later than what you considered acceptable but at the same time you didn't trust Beomgyu. You weren't sure you would get any more time out of him than this.

"Okay, deal. Message me when you're done and I'll head over."

"Cool, here's my number," Beomgyu grabbed your phone to type his own number in and called himself. "You okay to let yourself out?"

He left the studio and went into the room across, which you guessed was probably his bedroom. You copied the new files onto your USB before you packed up your things and left the studio as well. On the way you saw that Beomgyu's bedroom door was ajar. You saw him standing with his back to the door as he was pulling his t-shirt over his head. Your lips tensed into a line as you tried to not to make any noise and not even to breathe.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"See you later, Y/N."

You stood frozen in place as your eyes traced the lines of his back muscles to his pretty shoulders, not missing his toned arms flexing as he reached up to push the t-shirt over his head. Your gaze trailed back down his body to his hips where his bottoms were slung low, exposing the two cute dimples at his lower back. He didn't look like he was wearing anything underneath.

Beomgyu dropped his shirt to the floor and you suddenly darted down the corridor, panicked that he would turn around and see you. His bottoms dropped down just as he heard his front door open and shut.

[gleamglows]

Ask for a sirius request and you shall receive. I've been thinking about this idea for a while (and your writing is perfect for it ily) but how about a ravenclaw reader who is friends with james or remus and they introduce them? The one in my head was remus going to her dorm for a sleepover and bringing sirius and just being like "isn't she neat :)" and sirius immediately falling in love 🥺 no pressure if you dont vibe with it 🥰 ily bunches

i went to ravenclaw tower and all i got was this lousy stained shirt

pairing: sirius/reader

word count: 3.9k

summary: james and remus play matchmaker for you and sirius

content: ravenclaw!reader, fluff, it gets awkward (some of this was hard to write... 😭😭), dialogue heavy, you and sirius are very back-and-forth-y and witty (you’ll see what i mean), i know the title is long but i thought it was funny and i can do what i want

this was such a fun request!! i hope you don’t mind i took some liberties because i just immediately imagined remus and james secretly trying to match the two of you up for a while!! also i turned the sleepover into a party at ravenclaw tower!! (also also i came up with some cute ravenclaw girl ocs just for this, they were supposed to be minor but ended up having their own sideplots because i get carried away with everything. but they were fun to write! i gave them backstories and everything so if anyone wants to know more about them just ask :)

warning: mentions of alcohol!!

“You should meet Sirius.”

“Black?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you know another Sirius?”

You stick your tongue out at him and Remus smiles.

“What is it with Sirius, huh?” you tell him, adding a few drops of rain water into the potion before handing Remus the spoon to stir. He takes it and immediately gets to work.

“You and James,” you continue, idly counting Remus’s counterclockwise stirs in your head. “Not a day goes by where you don’t tell me I have to meet Sirius.”

In truth, you’d seen Sirius a few times. And he’d seen you, but neither one of you had actually spoken more than a few words to the other. Especially not since sixth year. Sirius had dropped Potions and Astronomy as quick as he could - the only two classes you’d had left with him. And seeing as you were in different Houses, bumping into each other in the common room was off the table as well.

But you had Potions with Remus and Astronomy with James, and whenever they could, they would always mention how you just had to meet Sirius. You sometimes wondered if Sirius was always being told he had to meet you.

“I just think you’d get along,” Remus shrugs, halting his stirring before you can even tell him to do so.

You both work in tandem for a bit after that, dropping ingredients into your potion and stirring when needed. You liked partnering up with Remus for this exact reason. You’d both fall into a comfortable silence and develop a good rhythm - you just flowed well together.

Once the potion is nearly finished, Remus speaks up.

“What about tonight? Isn’t there a party at Ravenclaw?”

“Robin says not to call it a party.”

“Well, that’s what it is.”

“Yeah, but we can’t call it that. At least not out loud,” you insist, not wanting your dorm mate’s wrath to come back later and haunt you. “It’s a quiet get-together,” you correct him.

Remus scoffs, knowing damn well that Ravenclaw parties are anything but. “That, then. You can meet him there.”

You raise an eyebrow in complete disbelief. “You’re gonna get Sirius Black to come to a Ravenclaw party?”

“What happened to quiet get-together?”

Damn it.

You quickly spare a glance at Robin, but she’s all the way across the room, scolding her partner for something he did to their potion.

“Good luck with that,” you continue, pretending to ignore his quip.

“We’ll convince him!” Remus assures you, as if it’s the least of his worries.

“Okayyy...” you sing, entirely unconvinced.

You’ve never seen Sirius Black at a non-Gryffindor party. He has way too much House pride to ever be caught partying in another common room. You’re almost positive you’ve seen him root for Gryffindor at Quidditch matches even when the team isn’t playing.

“Okay? So you’ll meet him?” Remus presses.

You laugh. “Okay! I guess!” you tell him, resigned. “But you and James have been hyping him up for a while, so don’t be surprised if he doesn’t live up to my expectations and I end up hating him.” You shrug a shoulder as you turn down the fire under the cauldron.

Remus just grins. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

.

.

.

Despite your nonchalant attitude with Remus earlier today, you actually find yourself feeling a bit nervous.

“Hey, do you guys know Sirius?” you ask over your shoulder as you straighten your outfit in the mirror. “Black?” you add quickly.

“Did you just ask us if we know Sirius Black?” A shrill voice cuts through the air and you know immediately that it’s Robin.

You groan, “I know, I know, everyone knows-”

“Everyone knows him,” Robin talks over you, and then sprays a copious amount of hairspray into her already voluminous blonde locks.

You move out of her way so she can use the mirror and she gratefully takes the opportunity, stepping in front of you to fluff up her roots.

“Yeah, how do you not know him?” Bea calls from the bathroom, where April is helping her into her dress.

“I mean, I know him,” you say, flopping down on your bed. “But I don’t actually know him. You know?”

“He was April’s first kiss!” Bea taunts. She makes several kissy noises and then you hear her say ‘ow!’

“You’ve got to stop bringing that up,” you hear April scold, “It was second year!”

Bea giggles and then skips out of the bathroom, April trailing closely behind.

Bea has on a stunning yellow sundress with long, belled sleeves - going all out, as usual. The color compliments her dark skin beautifully, but you know she’s really only wearing it to lure in that Hufflepuff boy she’s had her eye on.

April has still yet to get dressed, always waiting until the very last minute, but her straight black hair has been flawlessly curled - presumably Robin’s work.

“So what is it? Why do you wanna know about Black?” April asks politely, leaning against your bedpost as Bea sits on her trunk to slip on her shoes.

“James and Remus... They’re gonna get him to come here.”

Bea nearly drops her shoe, and Robin spins around to face you.

“Here?” The two say at the same time.

“Is he really?” April asks mildly, voice much gentler than the other two.

You shrug and nod your head at the same time, giving them an uncertain look. “I think so? Maybe? If they can convince him.”

There’s a beat of silence and then the hissing sound of Robin’s can of hairspray fills the air once more as she frantically tries to get her hair to cooperate. At the very same time, Bea starts to rummage around her wardrobe, muttering to herself about how ‘I think I have a red dress in here somewhere...’

It’s clear they’re both doubling their efforts, hoping to catch Sirius’s eye.

You laugh a bit and then turn to look at April, whose eyes are stuck on Robin’s reflection. She has a solemn expression on her face, but quickly snaps out of her trance when she notices you watching her.

“So,” she starts, putting on a small smile, “You’ve really never met Sirius Black?” she asks, sitting down beside you and crossing her legs beneath her.

“No, but I hear you have,” you tease, and she rolls her eyes.

“Yes, the first and only boy I’ve ever kissed.” She rolls her eyes.

You hear Robin fumble with her can of hairspray but think nothing of it.

April continues, “Anyway, that was second year,” she waves it off. “I do have muggle studies with him.”

“What’s he like?” you find yourself asking.

April shrugs a shoulder. “He’s nice, I suppose. Funny. Asks the professor a lot of questions about motorbikes.”

You tilt your head. “Motorbikes? Why?”

“Who knows. I think you two would get along, though.”

“Why’s that?”

April observes you for a few beats and then laughs a bit. You expect her to say something more but she just gives you a slight nudge with her elbow and then walks off, most likely to go get dressed.

Well that was pointless. You didn’t really learn anything useful. But then again, you’re not sure what you expected out of a conversation with April, who tends to keep her talking to a minimum (She claims it makes her more mysterious) (And she’s right, too).

Oh well. Perhaps you could find a way to strike up a casual conversation about motorbikes with Sirius.

Yeah, right.

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.

.

It’s a few hours into the party when the door opens up, letting in James and Remus. Trailing behind them, looking unnecessarily wary, is Sirius Black. He traipses around as if at any moment something in the common room is going to jump out and bite him, and you struggle to stifle a laugh.

You quickly wander off before any of them can spot you, fleeing towards where the drinks are. You figure that when they find you, you may as well be doing something instead of just lamely standing around. So you pick up the ladle and start to refill your cup.

April had transfigured her cauldron into one made of glass, and Robin had used it to concoct her famous sickly sweet, lavender colored drink that she’d aptly named ‘Robin’s Brew’. It was made up of a mixture of muggle and wizard liquors, as well as a myriad of different fruit juices. The taste itself was actually semi disgusting, but you get used to it after the initial few sips.

You ladle some more of the drink into your cup and then spin on your heel, ready to resume the search for your friends.

That is, until you crash face first against a broad chest, effectively spilling ‘Robin’s Brew’ all over whoever you just bumped into.

“Oh my gosh!” you blurt out, setting the now empty cup down. “I am so sorry, I-” Your words catch in your throat when you finally look up to see the person’s face.

So much for a good first impression.

Sirius waves you off, looking down at his now purple stained white shirt. “Don’t worry ab-” he stops in the middle of the word as he raises his gaze to look at you.

His lips are still slightly parted as if his voice had simply escaped him mid-sentence, and his expression is stunned and mesmerized all at once.

“I, um...” he tries again, but it’s as if he’s been put in some kind of trance just by looking at you.

“Oh, great! You’ve met!” A cheery voice cuts through the tension, and you both turn your head to find James beaming at the two of you.

Trailing behind James is Remus, who takes in the state of the two of you and grimaces.

“Met?” Sirius voices as he looks at James, sounding a bit dazed.

“Yeah, remember? Y/N!” James reminds him. “She’s great, right?” he grins, and you cringe.

“Oh, this is...?” Sirius slowly turns his head to look at you again. “Hey...” he says faux-smoothly, as if attempting to salvage your very first meeting.

“Hey...” you say back a bit awkwardly. “Um... Look, there’s towels in my dorm, we can all go?” you suggest, looking to the others for approval.

“Why don’t you two go?” Remus proposes instead, and you shoot him an alarmed look.

“Yeah!” James nearly shouts, looking at Remus as if he’s a genius. “Yeah, you’ll find us later!” he’s quick to agree, and they both start to walk away.

You let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, I don’t know if-” you start, not sure if comfortable enough to be alone with a man you just met after spilling your drink on him.

But Remus and James don’t wanna hear it.

“Alright! See you later!” James throws a finger gun at you as he walks backwards and then spins on his heel.

“But I-”

“Bye!” Remus calls, and then they both disappear into a small crowd of people.

You turn to face Sirius, whose shirt is still dripping and who’s watching you with rapt intrigue. He turns away the moment your eyes meet, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Soon enough you’re leading Sirius down the corridor that leads to your dormitory, trying desperately to remember whether or not you’d tidied up your area of the room.

The door swings open just as you arrive at it, and from out of it come April and Robin who seem to be having a serious looking discussion. They quickly stop talking as soon as they spot the two of you, and April is quick to storm off, leaving Robin behind.

“Oh, you’ll want to get rid of that,” Robin says with a wince, gesturing at Sirius’s shirt. “The stain actually gets darker the more you try to get it off... So...”

You give a heavy sigh. “Yeah, thanks Robin.”

She shrugs apologetically with both hands in the air and then starts to walk off. “Robin’s Brew! Patent pending!” she calls over her shoulder as she scurries off to catch up with April.

“What’s up with them?” Sirius mutters under his breath as you lead him inside.

“Well, aren’t you nosy?” you’re quick to reply.

You say it as a joke, but immediately wish you could take it back. What were you thinking?! You didn’t know Sirius enough to joke around with him like that! You didn’t know him at all! Hell, you’d just spilled your drink all over him, for all you know the guy hates you!

You spin around, ready to apologize, but then Sirius is laughing, and you nearly let out a massive sigh of relief.

“Uh-” your apology catches in your throat for a moment but you quickly recover. “Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s okay.” He shakes his head. “You’re right, nosy is my middle name,” he tells you with a shrug and a lopsided grin.

You find yourself smiling back. “Sirius Nosy Black, huh?”

He hums. “Rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, definitely.”

It’s silent for a moment as you both look at each other. Your thoughts leave you a bit as you get distracted by that strange way that he’s looking at you, but then you remember with a jolt that Sirius Black is in your dorm, shirt stained lavender and dripping ‘Robin’s Brew’ onto the floor.

“Um!” You scramble towards the bathroom and yank a random towel off the rack. “Here,” You toss it and Sirius catches it with one hand.

“You can, um...” You trail off but then realize you’re still standing in the doorway, effectively blocking his entrance. “Oh!” You quickly move out of the way, leaving a clear path for Sirius.

“Thanks,” he says with a slight laugh before disappearing into the bathroom.

Once the door closes you’re left alone, idly shuffling around, not really knowing what to do now.

This was horrible. All of this was horrible. You’re alone in your dorm with a man you’ve just met - sure he’s friends with Remus and James, but that doesn’t mean it’s not awkward!

You have to focus. You have to avoid any more tense silences. What would you say when he got out of the bathroom?

You suppose he did laugh at your quip earlier - he’d even added a little joke of his own. You’d gone back and forth a bit. It was easy to converse once you’d gotten started. But getting started was exactly the issue... You needed a good topic. Why can’t you think of a good topic?!

The door to the bathroom opens up and out walks Sirius, leather jacket now slung over his forearm and white shirt drier, but still equally stained.

You panic.

“Hey, do you like motorbikes?” You blurt out, and then have to resist the urge to hurl yourself out the window.

Sirius’s eyes widen and he opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking like a stunned fish, before saying “Motorbikes?”

You purse your lips. “Yeah, I was...” You shrug, trying to play off your very strange, very targeted question as just casual conversation. “I was just wondering... I dunno...” you say, leaning against one of your bedposts.

Sirius breaks out into a smile. “I have a motorbike.”

“Really! No way!” you exclaim, pretending to be shocked. Although you didn’t really know Sirius owned a motorbike, it wasn’t all that surprising considering what April had told you just a few hours ago.

Sirius’s eyes narrow slightly, looking at you as if he’s trying very hard to figure you out. “Yeah... I’m fixing it up right now...” he tells you, still grinning.

“Oh? Is it broken?”

He tilts his head back and forth a few times and then says “Not exactly.”

You cross your arms. “Then why are you fixing it up?” you challenge.

Sirius just rolls his eyes. “Well I’d argue that anything that can’t fly can definitely be improved.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “You’re gonna get your motorbike to fly?”

“Laugh it up now!” Sirius nods as you bring a hand to your lips, stifling your giggles. “No one’ll be laughing once I finish my flying motorbike!”

“Oh, I’d love to see it in action.”

“Sure, I’ll take you on a ride once it’s done,” he tells you, voice genuine.

That shuts you up. All of a sudden you find that you have no witty response. Apparently out of all the things that could have rendered you silent, the prospect of going on a ride on Sirius Black’s flying motorbike seems to have done the trick.

Sirius notices.

“I mean- If you want.” he quickly says, raising a hand. “I mean- Sorry. I know we just met, and I made you spill your drink, and I think I stained your towel with whatever that drink was - sorry about that too - but I-”

“Hey,” you cut him off, giving him a pointed but lighthearted look.

He gazes back expectantly.

“I’d love to,” you assure him, and he grins.

You don’t even remember what you were so nervous about. This was easy. Talking to Sirius was so easy once you got into a rhythm.

So you did.

You talked for a while, and when you got tired of standing you laid down on your bed, face down, head resting in your hands and legs kicking behind you as Sirius sat cross legged on your trunk in front of you. You talked about possible spells and modifications for Sirius’s motorbike, you bonded about all the times James and Remus had tried to get the two of you together, you even just talked about whatever nonsense came to your heads.

You were still talking (now both sitting on your bed) when the door creaked open, letting in April and Robin. April was asleep and Robin was carrying her bridal style. You notice they’re both barefoot, but Robin only has April’s shoes in hand - hers were probably somewhere in the common room.

“Oh, hey,” you say in a hushed tone, not wanting to wake April.

“Hey,” Robin responds, though she’s not quite as cautious with her volume as you.

Earlier today you’d have thought Robin would’ve freaked out the moment she saw Sirius, but if she cares about him being in the dorm, she doesn’t show it.

“She fell asleep on the couch. Thought I should leave her here,” the blonde explains as she pads over to April’s bed. She drops the shoes on the ground and then pauses to look at you. “Do you mind?” she questions, nodding her head towards the bed.

You quickly get up, striding over to April’s bed and pulling back the blankets.

“Thanks,” Robin murmurs as she gently sets the raven haired girl down.

You pull the covers up again and April stirs a bit but doesn’t wake up.

Robin finally acknowledges Sirius. “Hi,” she waves with a smile. Sirius smiles back. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, it’s fine. We were just talking,” you assure her, and she nods a bit before turning her attention back to April, gazing down at her with a slight furrow to her brow.

“Where’s Bea?” you voice, curious.

“Went off with her Hufflepuff, I expect.”

“Mm. Is the party over?”

“Quiet get-together.” Robin corrects you without a second thought and you laugh lightly, sitting back down on your bed beside Sirius. “And yeah. I’m gonna go try to clean up a bit,” she says, sounding like the prefect she is.

You watch as Robin hesitates over April for a bit, smoothing the blankets over, brushing stray hairs from the sleeping girl’s face. It’s as if she wants to take care of her but isn’t sure how. In the end, she gives you a smile, bids a polite ‘goodbye’ to Sirius, and then exits quietly.

“We never went and found James and Remus,” you turn to look at Sirius once the door closes and he grins.

“I don’t think they ever expected us to.”

“You’re probably right.”

April stirs again and you get up to close the curtains of her four-poster.

“I should go help Robin,” you tell Sirius, and he takes the cue quickly standing up.

“Right. Sorry I kept you up.“

“No, it was fun. Sorry I spilled my drink on you.”

“No, it was fun,” Sirius echoes, and you give him a slight shove.

The two of you walk across the room and out of the door in comfortable silence, and once you’re in the corridor you speak up.

“So, hypothetically,” you start.

“Uh-huh,” Sirius assents immediately.

“If you wanted to... I don’t know... Have breakfast with me tomorrow...”

“Oh?”

“How would you go about that?”

“Hypothetically?” Sirius raises an eyebrow, as if double checking.

“Of course,” you nod.

“Well in this completely made up scenario,” he starts, “I’d probably meet you here at seven and walk you down to the Great Hall.”

You fight a smile. “Well, great.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Hypothetically I’d definitely be ready by then.”

“Perfect.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

You’ve reached the door that leads out of the common room by now, and you open it up, leaning against the frame. The rest of the castle is dark as it’s well past midnight, and you can hear the quiet sounds of nearby portraits snoring. You’d be worried about him getting caught, but with all the pranks the Marauders have pulled throughout the years, you know for a fact that Sirius Black had plenty of experience sneaking about the castle after curfew.

You watch as he lights his wand with a quick ‘Lumos’ and starts to walk off, but then he hesitates.

“What?” you voice as he turns around, walking back towards you.

He stops right in front of you, looking at you very intensely, scrutinizing every inch of your face. For a brief moment you expect him to lean in and kiss you, but then he speaks.

“I know you brought up motorbikes on purpose. That girl April takes muggle studies with me, and she-”

You quickly shut the door in his face and press your back against it, eyes wide and smiling despite yourself.

You scurry off to help Robin and a few others clean up, spirits high with the promise of having breakfast with Sirius tomorrow morning.

And who knows, maybe by tomorrow he’ll forget all about the motorbike thing. At least, you hope he does.

(He doesn’t.)

.

.

Bonus, the next morning:

“There they are!” James exclaims as you and Sirius approach the table.

“Did he live up to your expectations?” Remus asks you pointedly as you sit down, and you poke your tongue out at him in response.

And then you shrug. “I’ve gotta say, right off the bat I wasn’t impressed.”

“You’re the one who spilled your drink all over me. My poor new shirt! Ruined!”

“Oh, boo hoo. Where will you ever find another plain, white T-shirt?”

“It had sentimental value!”

“And now it has a cute new design! So you’re welcome.”

“You want me to thank you for a stain?”

“It’s a fun souvenir from your first time in a non Gryffindor common room.”

“I should write on it. Big letters: ‘I went to Ravenclaw Tower and all I got was this lousy stained shirt.’”

“At least the stain is purple, it looked nice. Suits you.”

“Are you saying I look good in purple?”

“Sure.”

“So you’re saying I look good?”

“I- I didn’t-” you stammer, and then groan.

“Ah-ha!” Sirius points a finger at you. “Outwitted by a Gryffindor! If only Rowena Ravenclaw could see you now.”

Across the table, Remus and James watch on in dismay.

“Are you already regretting getting them together or is it just me?” James voices.

In response Remus sighs, “Oh, it’s not just you.”

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(hey ps for the sake of my sanity let’s just pretend there was no easy simple drying spell they could’ve used)

also: about robin & april

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taglist <3 // @isxfisticated @l-adysansa @tomshollandz